Wherever You Fly
by HGRache
Summary: Because there was no way in hell that Rachel Berry would be back in Lima, not after escaping for New York City years ago. Mature Material Present.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: My newest Puckleberry, yay! I am so obsessed with this pair, I must say, these things just come flying out of me! If you like it, be sure to check out my other stuff!—Rachel

33333

Noah Puckerman walked through the local Drug Mart tossing various items into his basket: shaving cream, deodorant, the econo-size box of condoms- hey, he wasn't optimistic, he was _realistic. _And he didn't take chances with that shit anymore, not since knocking up Quinn Fabray in high school, and, coincidentally, he hadn't had anymore close calls since. That shit had to mean something.

He rounded the corner, tossing in some Advil. He was really starting to feel his age, if one could consider twenty-six old. Most people wouldn't, he knew, but he worked construction and that shit was hard on a man's body. Of course, so was that hot little blonde he'd picked up two nights ago at the bar.

He was pretty sure he was _still _hung over from that night.

That had to be it, because there was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. There was no fucking way he had just seen Rachel Berry, in jeans and a t-shirt, no less, walk past his aisle mere seconds ago.

He rubbed his eyes with his hand. No way. Couldn't have been. He was probably just overtired. Because there was no fucking way in hell that Rachel Berry would be back in Lima, not after escaping the shithole for New York City years ago.

He ignored the nagging voice that told him her fathers were still in town, still lived in the same house, and that it wasn't completely off base to think she may be visiting them.

He shook his head firmly, because, crazy as she was, even Rachel Berry wasn't crazy enough to come back to Lima after finally getting out and making something of her life.

And he knew she had. She had left for New York shortly after graduation, from what he'd heard. She hadn't said goodbye to him, and honestly, he hadn't though much about her in the years since graduation. Of course, he hadn't really thought about anyone from McKinley, but still.

He had heard things over the years, of course. Her dads still went to Temple with his mom, so he heard how she'd made a name for herself, slowly but surely, and his mom had been so proud when Rachel finally landed her first real role on Broadway that people had actually thought Rachel was _her_ kid.

But he hadn't spoken with her since graduation, hadn't really spoken to anyone other than Quinn and Finn, with the occasional phone call from Matt and Mike.

It was inevitable that everyone would drift after high school and Puck didn't think any of them were really surprised by it.

Quinn and Finn had stayed close, of course, and the two were currently sharing an apartment in Columbus while Quinn finished up her master's degree in photography.

He didn't really see the need to have such an extensive degree in something so artsy but she hadn't really appreciated him questioning it and he'd been cutoff from dinner invitations for weeks.

He didn't mention it again after that.

Finn was working at an elementary school in Columbus, coaching various sports teams. He coached a youth football league in his spare time and Puck had helped him out last season before business started to pick up again.

Matt and Mike had stayed close and had actually started a program in Chicago for inner city kids, giving them the opportunity to dance and explore their abilities. He thought it was admirable, even though he gave them tons of crap about developing a second X chromosome. And yes, he knew about shit like that, he skipped math in high school, not biology.

Aside from his four friends, he hadn't talked to anyone since high school. They'd all scattered and he wasn't surprised. Rachel was destined for stardom, and everyone knew it. Artie never seemed like a lifer and Tina was actually pretty damn smart. Kurt always seemed more like the big city type and he figured Mercedes had probably tagged along for that ride.

Britt and Santana had gone to Miami, he knew, but if it was for college or for something else, he had no clue. He hadn't really talked to San much senior year. Their hookups had ended long before and neither was the type to try to make something into something it wasn't.

Everyone had gotten out except him. And that was how he knew there was no way in hell he had seen Rachel Berry in Drug Mart.

But still, a part of him thought maybe he had. He'd always had this weird Rachel radar, his body aware and alert every time he was around her. He'd always chalked it up to the fact that they were both two good looking Jews.

His body hummed in awareness now, the first time in years, and he knew, no matter how unlikely it was, that he had to find out. He stalked to the end of the aisle and looked to the left, then the right. Nothing.

He walked the end of the aisles, not seeing her. Coming to the last few aisles, he stopped when he reached the candy aisle.

There she was.

She was different than he remembered her. She was still hot, of course. Her hair was short, hitting just below her shoulders and her face was makeup free. But she was thinner than he was used to seeing her, not that she'd been fat in high school. But there was no denying she'd slimmed down in the years since then, and Puck could see the curves he'd sometimes itched to touch back then were almost nonexistent now.

It was weird seeing her in jeans. The only time he ever had was when they were performing and everyone else was wearing them too. And those times he was usually admiring the way Santana was rocking her jeans and hadn't really given Rachel much thought.

He was so caught up in staring at the denim-clad legs that he didn't realize she had seen him.

"My eyes are up here," she said in an amused tone.

Startled, he jumped a little and she laughed. "The eyes are good too," he said with a wink.

She laughed again and came closer. "Noah. It's good to see you."

"You too, Rach. Don't take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you doing in Ohio?"

She smiled but he noticed it wasn't quite as genuine this time. "It's a long story," she said.

"Missed me, huh?"

She rolled her eyes and he tried not to notice the dark circles that were not well concealed at all. "Why yes, however did you know?"

"Sarcasm? Rachel Berry learned sarcasm? New York has been good to you," he said appreciatively, running his eyes over her form again.

She smacked him in the arm and the package in her hand crinkled. He glanced down at it. "Gummy worms? Doesn't seem like your type of food, Rach," he teased.

She tensed briefly before relaxing. He noticed anyway. "They're not horrible," she told him.

"I figured you more for a granola type of girl," he said, eyes twinkling.

"Granola is a perfectly fine food, Noah," she told him indignantly. He flashed back to high school and her many rants and lectures. "But I'm not a huge granola person."

He placed his hand over his heart and staggered back a step. "Not granola? You must be joking."

She rolled her eyes. "It reminds me of bird food."

He burst out laughing and she looked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to get his laughter under control. "I just always thought of you as the bird food type of person."

She shook her head at him but he could see the amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. "You've grown up so much, I see." She peered into his basket. "And the large box of condoms, wow, feeling optimistic, are we?"

He narrowed his eyes at her teasing tone. "Realistic," he told her.

She nodded. "Of course."

"Seriously. I'm a good lookin' guy, Berry, I _need_ the large box."

"Absolutely."

"I do! Just last week, I-"

"I have no doubt," she said in a placating tone.

He glared at her. "Rach?"

"Yes, Noah?"

"Shut the fuck up."

She laughed this time, a full laugh, her head thrown back, eyes sparkling. He watched her as she laughed and he was struck with the thought that she hadn't done much of this lately. He brushed it off. She was Rachel fucking Berry, she was on Broadway in New York. She had the charmed life, of course she laughed long and often.

After she calmed down and had wiped at her eyes (seriously, it wasn't _that_ funny), she looked at him regretfully. "Listen, it was nice to see you, really, but I have to get home."

"Home? You're living here now?" What the fuck, Berry?

She shrugged one shoulder and he tried not to notice the sadness that radiated off her all of a sudden. "For now. It's complicated," she added, seeing the question on his lips.

"Apparently."

She smiled again, a little smaller, a little less bright. "It was really good to see you, Noah. Take care."

He watched her walk away and something he couldn't quite name wasn't happy about it. Something wasn't ready to let her walk away just yet.

"Rach," he called out, jogging up an aisle to catch up with her. She turned around, startled. "Wanna grab dinner later?"

She tilted her head to the side and he saw regret flash across her face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I really have to get home," she said.

He let the disappointment show on his face. "Oh, ok then."

She contemplated him for another moment. "Would you like to come over for dinner?" she asked after a brief hesitation.

He grinned. "Sure. Where you staying?"

"With my dads," she said. "417 S-"

"I know where you live, Rach," he cut her off. He sent her a wink. "Bedroom still yellow?"

"Mind still filthy?" she shot back.

He laughed and shifted his basket in his hands. "Always."

She rolled her eyes. "I figured. Is six o'clock ok?"

"Great. Need me to bring anything?"

"No, I think I have it covered. We'll see you then."

It didn't occur to him that she'd said 'we' until he was halfway home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Puck showed up a few minutes before six and parked next to an older model sedan in the driveway. The house still looked the same, he noticed, right down to the sturdy oak tree not far from Rachel's bedroom window. He'd had fantasies of climbing that thing late at night during the week they'd dated. And some nights after that.

He rang the doorbell and told himself he wasn't nervous. He was just curious, that's all. No way Berry would give up New York without a good reason, and he was curious to hear this "long story" she spoke of.

She opened the door and he saw she hadn't changed out of the red t-shirt with The Flash logo on it. He, on the other hand, had showered and changed into a nice polo and jeans. What a reverse.

"Noah, right on time," she said, smiling up at him. "Come on in."

He entered the house and she shut the door behind him. He could hear music coming from the direction of the kitchen and he heard a rhythmic thumping noise from somewhere else in the house, gradually coming closer.

The thumping turned into the sound of someone running and a small blur ran into the room. It wasn't the little boy with the dark eyes that shocked Puck so much as the bald head.

"Mommy, who's that?" the child asked, pointing a chubby hand at Puck. He waited for an answer as he munched on a gummy worm.

"Christopher, this is- Christopher, I told you no gummy worms until after dinner," Rachel said, hands on her hips.

"Grandpa said I could," the little boy said immediately, turning to point at his grandfather, who had followed him into the room.

Rachel glared and Richard Berry managed to look sheepish. "Sorry, darling, I haven't seen him in so long, I just can't help but spoil him a little."

"You'll spoil his appetite, is what you'll spoil," she said, anger and heat lacking in her tone.

Puck watched the scene in front of him numbly. He was still stuck back on the kid calling Rachel Mommy.

The little boy marched up to Puck and stuck out his hand, the one not occupied with the gummy worm. "My name is Christopher Andrew Berry and I am four years old," he announced proudly.

Puck blinked before reaching out to grasp the little hand. "Noah Puckerman," he murmured, staring into the eyes, the little face that was all Rachel.

Christopher giggled. "Pucker man? Like pucker up?"

"Christopher," Rachel scolded.

The child moved back to his mother, free hand pulling at her leg. "Pucker up, Mommy," he giggled.

She laughed too, bending at the waist to receive the kiss from the little boy. "Thank you, Christopher."

He repeated the gesture with Richard before returning to stand before Puck. "Who are you?" he asked, and Puck smirked at his forwardness. Definitely his mother's son.

"I'm a friend of your mom's, we went to high school together."

"When she was in glee cub?" the little boy asked excitedly.

Puck grinned. "Glee _club,_" he corrected.

Christopher rolled his eyes. "That's what I said."

Puck chuckled. This kid was all Rachel. "Yeah, we were in glee club together."

"You can sing and dance too?"

"Well, not as well as your mom, but yeah," Puck admitted.

"Noah plays guitar," Rachel chimed in before turning to Puck. "Do you still play?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I manage to get some time in every now and then."

Her eyes sparkling, she said, "Do you still know _Sweet Caroline_?"

He grinned at her over her son's head. "Of course. Though I'd never play it for anyone else."

Even as he said it he was wondering why he did. He was standing in her father's house, for crying out loud, flirting with her in front of her son.

"What's _Sweet Caroline_?" Christopher asked his mother curiously, glancing back and forth between the two friends.

"It's a song Noah sang for me once, a long time ago," she told him. "Christopher, did you get your clothes set out for tomorrow? We're leaving very early."

"I think so," he said, squinting his eyes, thinking hard. He turned to Noah. "We're going to a rainbow tomorrow!" He turned back to his mother. "Maybe I should go check again."

She nodded, and Puck could tell her smile had turned sad. "Ok, you go do that."

Puck raised his eyebrows at her. "Going to a rainbow?"

Her smile was tight as she answered him. "Rainbow Babies and Children's," she told him.

He blinked and glanced over her shoulder at Richard before glancing back at her. "The hospital in Cleveland?"

"Yes."

"What's…what's wrong with him?"

"Leukemia," Rachel said softly.

The bald head, he thought. That explained it. "Wow. That's…I'm sorry."

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "It's ok," she said. "We've known for awhile."

Her father glanced at her in concern before going back into the kitchen, murmuring something about checking dinner.

Her back was to him now and he could see the tension in her movements. "Rach," he said softly.

She paused but didn't turn around. "What?"

"Come sit down," he said. "Come talk to me."

She sighed softly before turning around and he gestured to the couch. She sat and he sat beside her. "What do you want to know?" she asked softly.

"Is that why you're here?"

"Yes," she said. "Rainbow is a really good hospital, one of the best in children's diseases there is."

"How long have you known?" he asked, watching her face in concern.

She shrugged and his heart broke a little at the sadness in her eyes. "He first got sick just before he turned two. He had always been an active child, he could always entertain himself and was always playing with something. But then he got very lethargic, didn't want to play with his toys or anything. And then he started developing random bruises all over his body. They were large and took forever to go away. We took him to the doctor and they thought it was something we were doing."

"Something you were doing?" he asked in confusion. "Like what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Hitting him? They were never specific, not really. They called Child Services though, and the police were brought in to question us. I was livid. I had brought my sick child in for care and they thought it was something I was causing. Do I look like a stupid individual?"

He shook his head, hearing the anger in her voice. "Not at all. What happened?"

"They separated us," she said. "They interrogated us separately, and they told me they thought that Jason, that's his father, was hitting him, being rough with him. I told them there was no way." She paused and he could see the tears welling in her eyes as she wiped them away. "And then when the diagnosis came back with leukemia, I actually wished they had been right. I actually wished Jason had been hitting him." She chuckled and wiped at her eyes again. "That sounds so horrible, I know, but that was something I could have fixed. I could have just packed Christopher up and left and the problem would have been solved. But that wasn't the case."

He knew she wasn't married, he had clocked her ring finger the second he'd seen her in Drug Mart, but he couldn't help asking. "Where is Jason now?"

Her jaw tightened and he could hear the bitterness in her tone when she spoke. "He took off shortly after the diagnosis. Christopher was hospitalized right away and a week later Jason was gone. He said it was too hard for him, that he'd never been around sick people before and he didn't know how to handle it."

"What an asshole move," Puck muttered, unable to believe someone could willingly choose to walk away from Rachel, from that little boy.

"It was hard for me too," she said, eyes flashing. "But I stayed. I'm his mother and I stayed."

"Of course you did," he said, taking her hand. "You love him."

"He's the best thing that ever happened to me," she confessed. "Despite this, despite everything, and I wouldn't change that for the world."

"You're a great mom," he told her seriously.

She laughed, breaking the tension of the moment. "Listen to you. You've known me as a mom all of, what? Half an hour?"

He waved her off. "So? I can still tell." She said nothing, just offered him a small smile and squeezed his hand. "So he was hospitalized?" he prompted.

"Yes. He started chemotherapy right away. It was brutal. He was sick all the time, throwing up and lethargic. But it worked. About eight months later the doctors proclaimed him in remission, cancer free."

"That's good."

"It was," Rachel agreed. "Things got better, normal again. I never tried to get in touch with Jason, and he never contacted me. It was just me and Christopher and things were wonderful."

"And then?"

She sighed, shifting on the couch. "And then it wasn't. He started coming home with bruises about six months ago. I dismissed the first few as roughhousing in play group, they weren't bad and they disappeared fairly quickly. But they kept popping up more and more frequently and I got scared and took him to the pediatrician. They did some tests and discovered the cancer was back, and more aggressive than before."

Puck shook his head absently, his heart going out to Rachel and that little boy. "So you brought him here?"

She nodded. "The hospital in New York wasn't as equipped for children. They've been treating him but they haven't been able to help him and Rainbow has one of the foremost medical programs for children in the country. Daddy pulled some strings and got him a consultation with a doctor there tomorrow."

"That's good," he said, recalling that Richard was a surgeon at a hospital in a neighboring city. "Can they help him?"

"I hope so," she admitted. "Christopher's fifth birthday is coming up at the end of next month and he's so excited. He wanted a big party, with lots of presents and all of his friends, but I don't think that's going to happen. I'm hoping they'll admit him to Rainbow."

"Why wouldn't they?" Puck asked.

"There's a waiting list," Rachel admitted. "Such a prestigious hospital, everyone wants their children to be there. There was a waiting list just to see a doctor, but Daddy was able to get by that. Normally I'd feel horrible for taking someone else's chance, especially someone who had to wait for it, but this is my baby, you know? I'd do anything to get him the treatment he needs, even if that means cutting in front of someone else."

He nodded seriously. "Of course you would, any parent would."

"He needs to be here," she said softly. "This is his best chance. He needs this."

"He seems to be in good spirits," Puck said.

"He is, mostly. I haven't told him they might admit him to this hospital. But he's still sick. He was exhausted when we got here last night and spent most of today sleeping or just watching movies. It breaks my heart to watch him just laying there, not out running around. He was the most active child I have ever seen before all this happened."

"I'm sure they'll take him, Rach," Puck said softly. "Your dad can put in a good word with the doctor tomorrow, tell him how important it is that he be treated there."

"Oh, Daddy's not going," she said absently.

"What?"

"He's not going. He has back-to-back surgeries lined up all day. He was going to cancel them and come with me but I refuse to let him. It's just a consultation, and his patients need him more than I do in this instance."

"What about your dad?"

"He's in Chicago, at a legal conference," she explained. "It's been scheduled for months and he was unable to get out of it."

"So you're going by yourself?"

"Yes." He gaped at her and she laughed softly. "It's fine," she told him. "I've been doing these things by myself for years."

"Doesn't make it right," he told her.

She shrugged. "Nevertheless, it is what it is."

He shook his head. "Nah. I've got tomorrow off, why don't I go with you?" It was a lie, of course, tomorrow was Tuesday, he was supposed to work, but he wasn't going to seriously let Rachel drive hours to this hospital and then deal with all this on her own. No way in hell. He felt the anger surge through him as he thought about what kind of asshole just abandons his son and his mother to years of this kind of thing.

"Noah, don't be ridiculous," she was saying. "We'll be just fine."

He shook his head. "Nope," he said simply. "I'm going."

"Noah, we're leaving very early in the morning," she said. "We'll likely be gone most of the day. Long car ride to and from. Who knows how long we'll be at the hospital? Really, it's ok, you don't have to do this. Christopher and I will be fine."

The child in question came bounding into the room before he could respond. "Everything's ready, Mommy," he said, slightly out of breath.

She pulled him onto her lap, cuddling him close. "Good. Dinner should be ready soon."

Puck smiled slightly, watching Rachel and Christopher snuggle on the couch. "Hey, Christopher," he said suddenly. The little boy turned to him. "How would you like some company tomorrow?"

He noticed Rachel narrow her eyes as the little boy grinned. "You're coming with us? He's coming with us, Mommy?"

Rachel opened her mouth but Puck beat her to it. "I sure am, buddy," he said. "If that's ok with you."

Christopher nodded. "Yay!" he said. "Mommy, Noah's coming too."

"I heard that," she said tightly.

Puck sent her his trademark smirk as Richard came back into the room, announcing that dinner was ready. Christopher followed his grandfather into the kitchen and Puck hung back, sure Rachel had a thing or two she wanted to say.

"Noah," she said, eyes flashing, "why did you do that?"

He grinned. "Because you're stubborn and would have said no."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," she said wearily.

"Rach?"

"Yes?"

"Just shut up and say thank you."

She blinked once before offering him a small smile and wrapping her arms around his waist. "Thank you, Noah," she said softly.

He held her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. "You're welcome, Rach," he whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Puck showed up at the Berry house at 5:30 the next morning, coffee cup full and ready to roll. He knocked on the door and Richard answered, coffee in one hand, briefcase in the other.

"Noah, good morning," he said hurriedly. "Thanks for going with her, she's very stubborn."

Rachel came up behind him. "I get it from you," she said wryly.

Richard kissed her on the cheek, yelling a goodbye to Christopher over her shoulder. "Call me when you know anything," he said. "Good luck."

Puck watched as her father dashed down the sidewalk, hurrying to his car. He turned to Rachel and raised an eyebrow as the car drove away.

"He's late," she explained, eyes twinkling. "Christopher decided he needed to shave this morning like Grandpa, and Daddy said it was quite the mess."

Puck chuckled, following her into the kitchen where Christopher sat eating a bowl of cereal. "I bet it was."

"Noah!" the little boy exclaimed.

"Hey, buddy," Puck greeted him. "Lucky Charms, huh? Good choice."

"He insisted that he eat rainbows since he was going to Rainbow," Rachel explained. He noticed she looked more frazzled than she did yesterday. "It's been a rough morning," she said under her breath.

He reached out, squeezing her shoulder briefly. "You guys about ready to go? I don't know how traffic's gonna be."

"Yes, we're ready," she told him. "Christopher, go get your coat on, please, and we'll get going." The little boy ran from the room and she gathered the breakfast dishes, placing them in the sink.

Puck leaned against the counter, watching as she filled one of the basins with water to soak the dishes in. "How are you doing this morning?" he asked her seriously.

"Fine," she responded, not turning around.

"Rach," he said softly.

She turned to meet his eyes and he was relieved to see she _did_ look ok, no tears today. "I'm used to this, Noah," she told him. "Doctors, hospitals, these things have become pretty routine to us the last few years."

"That pretty much sucks," he mumbled.

Rachel chuckled. "Pretty much," she agreed. "But this is to make him better, to give him his life back. I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen."

Christopher came back into the kitchen. "Ready, Mommy," he announced.

She smiled down at the boy, taking his hand in hers. "Ok," she said. "Let's get going."

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The car ride was long and they had to stop several times so Christopher could use the bathroom. But Puck wasn't complaining because he had to go once too, so he didn't mind. Christopher had been well behaved during the ride, falling asleep soon after they'd left the house. He and Rachel had spent the hours talking and catching up.

"Tell me about you," she'd said after her son had fallen asleep. "You know all about my life, tell me about yours."

He told her about the construction company he'd been working with the last two years, explaining about the classes he had been taking in business and administration on the side. "It's grunt work right now," he told her. "Long days, hard work. But the owner, I've known him for awhile, used to clean his sister's pool in high school, actually, and she put in a good word for me. My classes are almost done and he said he'll work with me once I graduate and I can move up in the company."

"Noah, that's wonderful."

"Well, it's not college in Columbus or performing on Broadway," he said.

"But it's something," she said seriously. "Something amazing and something that's right for you. It's a wonderful opportunity you've created for yourself and you should be proud." She grinned. "I bet your mom is."

He grinned a little too. "She is," he admitted. "She was upset at first that I wasn't going to college, but I never had the grades and we both knew the money wasn't there anyway. But I worked hard and got my shit together and she's happy. Always thought she wanted me out but when I got my own place Sarah said she cried for three days and she called me every day for two weeks."

Rachel chuckled, knowing full well how Nora Puckerman could be. "I bet it broke her heart when you left," she teased.

"She said it did," he grumbled. "But it's cool. She's still got Sarah, she's in high school this year, if you can believe it."

"They grow so fast," Rachel said wistfully, casting an eye back at her sleeping son. "Have you kept in touch with anyone from high school?"

"Quinn and Finn," he told her. "They're living together in Columbus while she finishes her master's degree. Practically married already though he hasn't gotten the balls to ask her yet."

Rachel giggled. "Not shocking they ended up together," she said, no trace of bitterness in her voice.

He nodded. "Yeah, even after everything, they still managed to work it out. Matt and Mike are both in Chicago."

She nodded. "I heard they were starting a studio," she said. "Mike emailed me a few years back and asked if I'd be interested in helping out or if I was content being, and I quote, 'a Broadway snob'."

"Clearly, you stuck to the snob," he teased.

She laughed. "Not really, but I let him think that. Christopher had just been diagnosed and Jason had just left and I couldn't really handle anything else," she said.

Puck glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Did you ever tell them?"

She shook her head. "No. I've never told anyone, not until you. I've kept in touch with Kurt over the years, and have spoken to Tina now and then, but I've never told them."

"Why?" he asked curiously.

She shrugged, looking out the window. "I don't know. They always had such wonderful things to say about their lives. Kurt's a designer and he's had tremendous success. Tina's up in New England, taking classes at Harvard, talking about teaching there someday. And I have a sick kid. It doesn't really compare."

"You're ashamed?"

"Never," she said firmly. "Christopher is my life and I wouldn't change that for anything. I just didn't want anyone feeling sorry for me. So I just told them about Broadway and my shows, and then after I quit to be with Christopher, I just told them I was exploring bigger options. They never asked for anything more specific."

"I get that," Puck said quietly. "But you know they would have been there for you, right?"

"Oh, of course," Rachel said. "But I didn't want them putting their lives on hold and I didn't want anyone feeling sorry for me. I love my life. So I had to quit Broadway. So what? I got my shot, I starred in a few shows before I quit. I got my dream. And I got Christopher. And you know what? Turns out he was a dream I didn't even know I had. I wouldn't change my life for anything. The only thing I'd change is my baby's health, and that's why we're here. I'm going to give him every chance I can and we're going to go from there."

Puck swallowed hard, past the lump forming in his throat. He silently prayed that it was enough and praised Rachel for her strength. "You're amazing," he told her gruffly.

"I'm a mom," she said simply. "Any mom would do the same."

"Any amazing mom," he corrected her. "Not any mom." She was quiet then and he knew she was thinking of Shelby, of the mom she'd never have. He wondered if she knew, if they were in contact, but he wasn't going to ask. He figured they probably weren't close, especially since Rachel hadn't spoken of her yet.

Christopher woke a few minutes later and they stopped for a bathroom break and when they'd all gotten back in the car, the mood had shifted to a silly one. Rachel and Christopher sang songs and the child even conned Puck into singing _Sweet Caroline_ when it came on the radio. The little boy laughed and Rachel's eyes sparkled and Puck didn't have one ounce of regret for taking the day off, despite his boss's wrath when he had done so.

He navigated the traffic of downtown Cleveland carefully, pulling into a parking garage for the hospital. He stashed the slip on his dashboard, Rachel took Christopher's hand and Puck was shocked when the little boy reached for his as well. He took it hesitantly, holding on tight as the three of them crossed the parking garage to the elevator.

They entered the main hospital and Puck followed Rachel's lead as she led them through a series of hallways and corridors. Christopher looked around, his eyes wide as he took in the bustling environment. Puck just held on tight and followed Rachel blindly.

They came to a stop outside a door bearing the name Daniel Stevens, MD, and Rachel opened it, the two boys following her in. She walked up to a woman sitting at a desk. "We're here to see Dr. Stevens," she said to the woman. "We have a consultation."

"What's the name?"

"Berry, Christopher."

The woman typed a few keys. "Ah, yes, here we are. He's in with a patient now but I'll let him know you're here. Go ahead and have a seat."

They sat in chairs against the wall, facing the office, Christopher between them. He swung his legs restlessly and when Rachel touched his arm gently, he stopped. She pulled a book out of her purse and started reading quietly to him, Puck leaning closer so he could see. They were halfway through the book when the lady called to them.

"He's ready for you now," she told them.

Rachel stood and Christopher followed her lead. Puck glanced around, unsure. Should he go in with her? Stay out here? "Uh, should I…do you want me to…?"

She smiled reassuringly at him. "We'll be ok, Noah," she told him. She handed him the book. "I'll leave you with this, I know how riveted you were."

He grinned at her and took the book, his gaze never leaving them as she ushered her son into the office behind a nurse.

They'd been gone about fifteen minutes when he heard his name.

"Puck?"

He glanced up and was shocked to see Will Schuester standing in front of him. "Mr. Schue?" he asked in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Just Will," he said, clapping Puck on the shoulder. "We're all adults now. Where's Rachel?"

"In with the doctor," Puck said absently. "Wait, you're here for Rachel?"

Will nodded. "I talked to her dad a few days ago, he mentioned she was coming up here and he was unable to come with her. He was pretty upset about her coming alone so I told him I'd be here. I tried to get here sooner but I hit traffic."

"Do you know why she's here?" Puck asked slowly.

Will nodded. "Christopher has an appointment."

Puck gaped at him. "You know about Christopher?"

Will nodded. "Yes. Emma and I visited Rachel in New York when she was first on Broadway and we kept in touch. We visited several times after Christopher was born. Emma was actually going to come today, too, but she had some things she couldn't get out of."

"I didn't think anyone knew about him," Puck said.

"None of the kids do," Will admitted. "But Emma and I have known about him since he was born. We're his godparents. And then shortly after he was diagnosed the first time, Rachel broke down one night and called, telling us everything."

"Did you know Jason?"

Will's jaw tightened. "Yes. We met him a few times. We weren't fond of him, to be honest, but it wasn't really our place to say. We never knew what Rachel saw in him, and, horrible as it is, the best thing he could have done for these two is exactly what he did. He had a temper and I got the impression he kind of rode Rachel's coattails once she became well known."

"I don't understand how anyone could walk out on them," Puck confessed, shaking his head. "I just met Christopher last night and I can't even imagine what kind of person could pull an asshole move like that."

"You didn't know Jason," Will said shortly.

"I think I'm ok with that."

"You and me both."

They sat quietly for a few minutes before Will spoke again. "How's she doing?" he asked softly.

"Same old Rachel Berry," Puck said with a grin. "Determined, driven, ready to give this everything she has."

Will's smile was tinged with sadness. "She's had it rough," he confessed. "I'm glad she's home, at least for now. She was alone in New York, dealing with this, and it took its toll on her."

"She's very independent about it," Puck agreed. "She wouldn't let me bring her, so I asked Christopher if he wanted me to come."

"Pretty slick," Will said with a smile. "Bet she hated that."

Puck nodded. "At first, but I think she was glad she didn't have to do it on her own for once."

Will shook his head. "Good. She's been alone with this for far too long."

Their conversation stopped when the door opened and Rachel walked out alone, her eyes red rimmed. "Noah, they're-Will! What are you doing here?"

The older man stepped forward and embraced his former student. "Hey, Rach," he said softly. "How are you doing?"

She squeezed him back before pulling away. "Ok," she said hoarsely. "They're admitting him. Now."

Puck's heart thudded in his chest. "Is everything ok?"

She nodded. "Yes. They're going to start chemotherapy immediately and we're going to see how he does on that. Dr. Stevens mentioned a more aggressive approach we could try as well."

"How's Christopher taking it?"

Rachel's eyes welled up. "Not well," she admitted. "He's upset that he has to stay. I should have prepared him, but I honestly didn't think he'd be admitted today." She wrung her hands nervously and Puck directed her to a chair. "I really thought there'd be things to arrange, medical records that needed faxed from New York. I thought tomorrow, at the very earliest. I should have prepared him for this."

Will put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You didn't know," he told her. "It's not your fault."

"What's going to happen now?" Puck asked quietly.

"They're sending someone up for him," she said, dabbing at her eyes. "They're going to take him down to oncology right away and get him set up."

Puck took her hand in his, squeezing tightly, saying nothing. They were quiet, the two men taking their cues from Rachel. No one said anything until an orderly with a wheelchair entered the office.

Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath before standing. "I'll be right back," she said, following the orderly to the back office.

Puck closed his eyes as the door shut behind her, praying silently for a positive outcome to this whole damn mess. He felt Will's hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes.

"This is a good thing," Will said softly. "This is a good hospital and this is where he needs to be. It's good they found a place for him."

"Yeah," Puck said quietly, "but is it good that it's so soon? So urgent?"

Will shrugged a shoulder uneasily. "Maybe it's just because he knows Rachel's dad. Or maybe it's more than that. Either way, this is what she came here for. This is what's best for him right now."

The office door opened and the orderly wheeled Christopher's wheelchair out slowly. The little boy looked scared but beamed when he saw them. "Uncle Will!" he cried.

The orderly stopped moving and Will bent down to hug the little boy. "Hey, Christopher," he greeted him. "You've gotten so big!"

"Mommy feeds me vegetables," Christopher said, wrinkling his nose. "I don't like them but she makes me eat them."

Puck stole a glance at Rachel, noticing how her smile never quite reached her eyes, the faint trembling of her hands.

"Ok, buddy, ready to go for a ride?" the orderly asked.

Christopher looked back for his mother, nodding once he was sure she was there. "Let's go," he said.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Puck had never been to an oncology ward before, let alone a children's oncology ward, and, walking down the hallways, passing various children and doctors, he was pretty sure he never wanted to be in one ever again.

So many children, being moved in wheelchairs, beds, children with IV poles walking with nurses. All of them bald, all of them smaller, paler than they should be. He didn't know how Rachel stood all of this.

Christopher was situated in a room and a nurse came in to insert an IV. She chattered brightly to the child as she worked, warning him before everything she did. Puck figured he had been through all of this before. When the time came to insert the needle, the boy squeezed his eyes shut, holding tight to his mother.

The nurse hung the IV bag and quietly told Rachel she'd be back in a little bit with the first round of chemo that Dr. Stevens had called for.

Christopher looked around the room, taking it all in. "It's different," he decided.

"Different from what?" Puck asked.

"New York. It's prettier," the child said expertly.

"New York wasn't a children's hospital," Rachel explained to the two men. "Just a regular hospital. Dull colors, full of adults. Nothing like this."

Puck glanced around at the room, taking in the sunny colors, the animal murals on the wall. He could see how this would be a better atmosphere for a child, especially one that could be here for a while.

Puck pulled out the book Rachel had been reading earlier and Christopher grinned. "Uncle Will, will you read to me? _Please_?" he asked, his face settling into an adorable expression.

Will laughed. "Put away the puppy dog eyes, bud, all you had to do was ask."

Rachel gave up her chair beside the bed to Will, who started reading to the little boy. Puck tugged her through the doorway and pulled her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest as her arms wrapped around his waist. They stayed like that for a long time.

When she pulled back and started wiping the tears from her cheeks, he stilled her hands, brushing the tears away himself.

"This is a good thing," he whispered to her. "He's where he needs to be. You got him here, babe."

"I'm scared," she admitted quietly. "I wanted him here, but I didn't think there would be that big of a rush."

"That just means they know they can help him and they want to get started right away so he can go home healthy and happy," Puck assured her, smoothing her hair back. "It means he has a chance and it's one they're willing to take."

She closed her eyes and more tears slipped from beneath her lashes. "I know," she whispered. "I'm just scared. Dr. Stevens was very concerned."

"But you said he had a plan, a more aggressive option you could try," Puck pointed out. "He already knows what he wants to do. That's something."

"This just feels different," Rachel said quietly.

"It's a children's hospital," he pointed out gently. "They specialize in children and they don't get to be one of the best by not acting fast. The faster, the better, right? This is good, Rach, I promise."

She nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I should get back in there," she told him. "I'm going to stay tonight, this is a new place and he's scared and I'm not going to leave him alone. You can go whenever you want." He blinked at her in confusion and she shook her head. "I didn't mean it like that," she said.

He smiled down at her. "I know. I'll leave in a little bit. I can hang out for a while."

Puck and Will stayed for a few more hours. The nurse had brought Christopher some pills to take and Puck wasn't sure the child would be able to swallow the large pills, but he did so like a champ. Dr. Stevens had come in an hour later and a nurse had taken Christopher on a tour of the floor while the doctor spoke with Rachel.

"Maybe we should talk alone," the doctor said, glancing at Puck and Will.

Rachel shook her head. "These are my friends," she said. "They'll hear it anyway, we might as well include them."

The doctor nodded. "We've started the first round of chemotherapy today, as you know," he said. "It's a stronger dose than he was getting in New York. I want to see how he does on it."

"Same side effects as before?" Rachel inquired.

Dr. Stevens nodded. "Yes, although, since the dose is higher, they could be more severe. Vomiting, fever, headaches. You know the drill."

Rachel sighed. "Yes."

"We can adjust the dosage based on his reactions," Dr. Stevens told her. "If it makes him too ill, if he can't handle the dosage, we'll drop him down to what he was at before."

"What he was at before wasn't working," Rachel pointed out. "That's why we're here. Treatments in New York proved ineffective. Why would you go back to that?"

"I wouldn't, necessarily," Dr. Stevens explained. "We don't want to destroy his body with too high a dosage but we want to give him more than the dose that wasn't working. It's a fine line and, unfortunately, mostly trial and error."

"You mentioned something else, when we were downstairs," Rachel said.

"Yes. It's more aggressive, much more so than the chemo. That's why I want to try the higher dose of the drugs first. But if that does prove ineffective, there is another option."

"Which is what?" Will asked.

"A bone marrow transplant," Dr. Stevens said. Rachel blanched and he hurriedly continued. "It's proven very effective in treating Christopher's form of leukemia. It's the next step for patients when chemotherapy is failing."

"What does that entail? How does it work? If it's so successful, why didn't they just do that in the first place?" Rachel asked.

"Bone marrow transplants are not first options for many reasons," Dr. Stevens explained. "First of all, there is no guarantee that the cancer will be cured. They are invasive and painful, for both the donor and the recipient." He glanced around at their faces, making sure they were paying attention. "For every transplant, a donor must be found for each patient. Donor eligibility depends on how strong of a match the donor is for a patient. Blood type plays a large factor. Not everyone can donate to every patient."

"So it's like donating blood?" Puck asked, trying to keep up.

"In a basic sense, yes," Dr. Stevens nodded. "A needle is stuck into the donor's hip bone and the marrow is aspirated, withdrawn, through a long needle. The marrow is then hung like an IV bag and drips directly into the patient's blood."

"What does that do?" Rachel asked.

"Leukemia deals with the red and white blood cells," Dr. Stevens explained. "It's basically a blood cancer. The thought is to inject healthy blood cells into the patient in hopes they replicate and start producing normal, healthy blood cells that can fight the cancer."

"So it's painful," Rachel murmured. "I understand. But why isn't this done? We've never been told this was even an option for us."

"There are several reasons for that," Dr. Stevens cautioned. "The first being that finding a donor is a complicated process. The second being that there is an increasing bone marrow shortage. Everyone knows there is almost always a shortage of blood available and bone marrow is even worse. People donate blood through the Red Cross, churches, avenues like that, but most people are unwilling to donate bone marrow. It's painful and not as simple of a procedure."

"I didn't even know you _could_ donate bone marrow," Will said, shaking his head.

"There is also a chance of rejection, once you get through all of that," Dr. Stevens told them. "You can find a donor, a good match, do the transplant, and then have the patient reject the marrow. It's the way the body works. The marrow, though healthy and good for the patient, is foreign to the body and the patient's immune system will attack the new blood cells, killing them before they even have a chance. We give the patient strong drugs to suppress their immune system before a transplant so that doesn't happen, but rejection could take place immediately after a transplant, or months down the road as the new marrow grows and matures. There is always a risk."

Rachel looked overwhelmed. "So what do we do?"

Dr. Stevens patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry too much about that now," he told her. "That's down the road, if it happens at all. Right now we're going to try the higher dose of chemo and see where that takes us. One step at a time, Rachel."

She nodded absently, gaze drawn from the doctor as Christopher was wheeled back in.

"Mommy," he said excitedly, "they have a kitchen on the floor! They can make me whatever I want to eat whenever I want! Even ice cream!"

"Wow," Rachel said, pasting a smile on her face for her little boy. "I bet you'll love that."

He nodded vigorously. "They said I can even have ice cream at midnight! If it's ok with you," he added.

"We'll see, ok?"

The nurse helped Christopher back into bed and Rachel followed Dr. Stevens to the door.

"Try not to worry," he told her again. "I know it all sounds scary and complicated. Those are things we don't have to worry about right now. Let's just hope the chemo works and we don't have to take any additional steps. I have some other patients but if you have any questions, let the nurses know. I'll be back to check on Christopher later."

Rachel thanked him and met Puck's eyes. He could see the fear in them even from across the room. He looked at her inquisitively but she shook her head slightly, perching on the bed next to her son.

"How are you feeling, Bug?" she asked him.

"Kinda tired," he admitted.

"Well, why don't we find you some cartoons on TV?" she said, picking up the remote. She turned to the cartoon channel and Christopher was fast asleep before the show was even over.

A nurse came in to check Christopher's vitals as the adults talked. "You have a kitchen on the floor?" Will asked curiously.

The nurse nodded. "The chemo messes with their taste buds and gives them strange cravings," she explained. "Foods they used to love no longer taste good and they start eating things they never used to. I had a girl here last year who loved chocolate, but six weeks into the chemo all she wanted was strawberry banana milkshakes. Her mom said she hated strawberries, but that's what the chemo does." She shook her head. "It just makes it easier if the kitchen is here, close by, and we can get the kids whatever they want, whenever they want it."

Puck chuckled. "I bet they run you ragged."

The nurse shook her head again. "You'd be surprised," she said. "The chemo makes them so sick most of the time that they don't want to eat much of anything. So when one of them is able to eat something and keep it down, we're more than happy to get it for them."

"He was excited about ice cream at midnight," Rachel said softly.

"If that's what he wants, and you're ok with that, that's what we'll get him," the nurse said firmly.

"Anything," Rachel said. "Anything he wants, whenever he wants it."

The nurse nodded. "His vitals look good. I'll be back to check on him in a little while. I'm Debbie. If you need anything, you let me know."

Debbie left and Rachel shook her head in awe. "They're so different here," she marveled. "The hospital in New York was such an adult place, the nurses were never that accommodating. I think this is going to be a really good place for him."

"You did the right thing bringing him here, Rachel," Will said. "He'll get topnotch care here."

She nodded, her gaze focused on her son. "I hope so," she murmured. "I sure hope so."

33333

Puck left that evening and Will followed him out. He hugged Rachel tightly. "Call me," he told her quietly. "If you need anything or even if you don't. I have to work tomorrow but I'll try to get back up here soon."

She hugged him back, hard. "Thanks for coming, Noah," she whispered. "You were right, I needed someone here today."

He placed a light kiss to the top of her head. "Anytime, babe. Will you tell Christopher I said goodbye?"

"Of course."

Will hugged her next and whispered many of the same things Puck did. He said he would fill Emma in on what was happening and they would be back to visit soon.

As they left and Rachel settled back in to watch her sleeping son, she thanked the higher powers that she had people in her life that cared so deeply. She wasn't sure what she would have done if she had been alone today. Everything had happened so fast, was so confusing. She thought that after two years of dealing with Christopher's leukemia that she was pretty much an expert on it, but she had learned so much new information today that it was confusing. It made her wonder what else there was out there that she didn't know about leukemia yet.

She prayed Christopher would get better soon, for good, so she wouldn't have to find out.

33333

She was awakened by the sound of retching hours later. She didn't know what time it was, but it was dark outside and she knew it must be late.

Christopher was sitting up in bed, retching, and he'd thrown up on himself before she got the bedpan under his mouth. His body heaved as he vomited for several minutes and she rubbed his back, whispered soothing words to him.

A nurse came in, a different one than they'd had earlier, and she waited with them until he had finished throwing up. She took the bedpan, emptying it in the bathroom that was en suite. Then she helped Rachel get Christopher up and fixed his IV to a mobile pole. The two women took him into the small bathroom and stripped him of his hospital gown. The nurse turned the small shower on, adjusted the water temperature and they slipped Christopher inside, washing him off. He cried the entire time.

When he was cleaned up, the nurse slipped a new hospital gown onto him and they carried him back into the room. Rachel was shocked to see fresh sheets on the bed.

"We're efficient," the nurse said calmly. "This happens all the time. Ok, Christopher, we're going to lay you back down now," she told the little boy. "Is there anything you need? Some water?"

He didn't say anything, just kept crying and Rachel almost felt like she could cry herself. This was the worst part. Having to watch your baby get sick, sicker than you had ever seen anyone, and know there was nothing you could do to make it any better.

"How about you, Mom?" the nurse asked softly. "Can I get you anything?"

Rachel started to shake her head before she realized she was covered in vomit as well. "Is there something else I could put on?" she asked hesitantly. "I don't have any clothing with me and-"

"Absolutely," the nurse said kindly. "I'll be right back with some scrubs. I'll bring some more soap and towels, too, so you can use the shower if you want."

Rachel thanked her gratefully and tried to calm her son down. "It's ok, sweetheart," she said soothingly. "Go back to sleep, everything's ok."

He continued crying.

"Do you want me to sing you a song?"

He sniffled and nodded.

She smiled, taking his small hand in hers. "Ok," she said, clearing her throat before beginning.

_Baby mine, don't you cry_

_Baby mine, dry your eyes_

_Rest your head close to my heart_

_Never to part_

_Baby of mine_

_Little one, when you play_

_Don't you mind what they say_

_Let those eyes sparkle and shine_

_Never a tear_

_Baby of mine_

_If they knew sweet little you_

_They'd end up loving you too_

_All those same people who scold you_

_What they'd give just for the right to hold you_

_From your head down to your toes_

_You're not much, goodness knows_

_But you're so precious to me_

_Sweet as can be_

_Baby of mine_

_All of those people who scold you_

_What they'd give just for the right to hold you_

_From your head down to your toes_

_You're not much, goodness knows_

_But you're so precious to me_

_Sweet as can be_

_Baby of mine_

_Baby of mine_

By the time she finished the song, Christopher's eyes were drooping and he was fighting to stay awake. She smoothed her hand across his brow. "Sleep, darling," she whispered. "Mommy will be here when you wake up. Sleep now."

He let his eyes flutter closed and when his breathing evened out, Rachel let out a small sigh.

"Your voice is very pretty," she heard from behind her.

She turned to find the nurse with a clean pair of scrubs and some towels. "Thank you."

"Really. You could be a professional."

Rachel chuckled lightly. "I was."

The nurse's eyes widened. "Really?"

Rachel nodded, taking the items from her. "I was on Broadway for a few years."

"Wow. That's amazing. You're so talented."

"Thanks. That was a while ago, though. I quit after Christopher was born. He's my favorite audience now."

"He's sleeping again?" Rachel nodded. "That's good, he needs his rest. If you need anything else, please let me know."

Rachel shut herself in the small bathroom and slowly undressed. She waited until she was standing under the scalding hot spray to let herself cry.

33333

_AN: The song in this chapter is "Baby Mine" by Allison Krause._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

By the time Richard showed up the next morning, Christopher was wide awake and full of energy. Rachel, however, was dead on her feet.

"Sweetheart," Richard said, "you look like you had a rough night."

It was true. Her hair was sticking up all over the place, despite the fact that she'd tried to use her fingers to comb through it. Her scrubs were wrinkled and there were dark bags under her eyes.

"It was ok," she told him.

They watched Christopher brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Richard handed her a small duffel bag. "I brought some of your things," he told her. "I wasn't sure how long you were going to be up here or if you were coming home with me."

Rachel opened the bag to find several pairs of clothes and a pair of comfortable yoga pants she could sleep in. She almost cried to see her toothbrush, mouthwash, hairbrush, hair ties. "Oh, Daddy, thank you," she said, throwing her arms around him.

"You're not going to be home for awhile, are you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. I don't want to leave him alone here by himself, especially to go so far away. He gets scared I won't come back."

They both knew who was to blame for that.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to bring for you? Or for Christopher?"

"A book, maybe?" Rachel said hesitantly. "Something for both of us. He falls asleep early and there's not a whole lot on TV most days. Something thick," she said.

Richard nodded. "What about your iPod? Magazines? Crossword puzzles?"

"My iPod would be nice," she admitted. "Really, anything's fine. But thank you for the clothes. Christopher got sick last night and I didn't have anything to put on, we weren't counting on him having to stay, so the nurse gave me some scrubs."

"I'll get some more of your clothes together," Richard promised her. "Dad's flying in tonight, he said he wants to be here in the morning, so I'll send them with him."

"Thank you, Daddy," Rachel said tiredly.

"Was this what it was like, before?" he asked his daughter. "And you did it by yourself?"

"It's better now," she assured him. "This hospital is so much more kid friendly and they don't have a problem with me being here all the time. One of the nurses at the hospital in New York tried to enforce visiting hours with me."

Richard chuckled. "I imagine that went over well."

"I threatened them with the ACLU, the state medical board, the Better Business Bureau, anything I could think of," she admitted with a laugh. "She was removed from his case immediately and replaced with a much more accommodating nurse."

"I spoke with Daniel," Richard told her, referring to Christopher's doctor.

Rachel held her breath. "And?"

"He seems very optimistic about the chemo, which is good. I told him to speak to me like a doctor, and not like a grandparent, and he was very frank. He has high hopes for the increased dosage, if Christopher can handle it. And if not, he's optimistic about a transplant as well."

Rachel shuddered. "He was explaining it to us yesterday. It sounds so extreme."

"I know it sounds scary, honey," Richard said, taking his daughter's hand. "But the success is overwhelming in leukemia patients if the match is strong enough."

"It just sounds like such a process."

"It is," he said honestly. "There are a lot of factors that have to fall into place but when they do, it's usually worth it. But Daniel told me that we're not even to that step yet, so there's no point in worrying about it until we have to."

Christopher came back into the room. "Hi, Grandpa," he said happily.

"Hey, sport. How are you feeling today?"

"Better. Mommy said I can go play in the toy room with the other kids today."

"Is that so?" Richard asked. "Are grandpas allowed in the toy room?" He tickled Christopher's tummy and the boy giggled.

"Sure, Grandpa! Come on, Mommy, let's go!"

Rachel checked that his IV bag was secure on the pole stand and the three of them walked the short way down the hall to the playroom. There were a few kids playing with blocks, a few reading books. Christopher tugged Rachel's hand and she followed him over to a small table where a little bald girl sat doing puzzles. She looked up hesitantly and Rachel could tell immediately she was shy.

Apparently Christopher noticed too. "I'm Christopher," he told her boldly. "This is my mommy, the best mommy in the whole world. And this is Grandpa. He's pretty cool too."

The little girl smiled shyly at them. "I'm Amanda."

Rachel smiled back at her. "Hi, Amanda. What are you doing there?"

"Puzzles."

"Can I help?" Christopher asked.

Amanda nodded. "Ok."

And just like that, Christopher had a new friend.

A nurse in bright red scrubs came over to them as they watched Christopher and Amanda chatter away. "I'm surprised she spoke to him," she told them.

"Amanda?" Rachel questioned.

The nurse nodded. "She's been here for months and never interacts with any of the other children, even when they try to play with her."

Rachel glanced over at the two children and saw that Amanda was talking a mile a minute to her son. "She doesn't seem to have a problem now."

The nurse laughed. "I see that." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Katelyn, I'm in charge of monitoring the playroom during the daytime."

Rachel shook her hand and introduced herself and her father. "What are the playroom hours?" she asked.

"Oh, whenever," Katelyn said with a wave of her hand. "We're pretty lax about stuff on the floor. We don't like to have the kids confined to their beds all the time so they can get up and play whenever, they just have to buzz a nurse to bring them down here first. There's a monitor for the evening shift and a nurse accompanies any child who wants to come down at night, so there's always someone down here. We have scheduled arts and crafts time every day, about an hour after lunch, but other than that, it's always open."

"This is so different from the last hospital we were at," Rachel marveled again.

Katelyn smiled. "We try. We know that, even though these kids are sick, they're still kids. They need to play and socialize and have fun. And medically, we're prepared for everything. We have call buttons in reach so if there's ever an emergency in here, we can call for help immediately. It's completely safe."

"That's good to know," Richard said, settling his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Isn't it, Rach?"

Rachel nodded. "Absolutely. I'm going to be here a lot," she explained to Katelyn, "and all of this is new to me."

Katelyn smiled reassuringly. "We take care of these kids like they're our own," she promised. "Lots of parents visit a lot, some stay all the time. We have a parents lounge just down the hall. It's got lockers so you can store some things there. Clothes, books, whatever. We keep it stocked with coffee and some other basic things."

Rachel nodded and couldn't explain why she was suddenly tearing up. "Thank you," she said. "I really think this is the best place he could possibly be."

Katelyn squeezed her arm reassuringly. "We think so too," she said. "The doctors are amazing and we really hope he gets better and we never see him again. No offense," she laughed.

Rachel laughed with her, wiping her eyes. "None taken, it's what I'm hoping for too."

Richard wandered over to Christopher and Amanda, who were putting together a large puzzle of puppies. "Christopher, how's it coming?"

The little boy chewed on the corner of his lip. "It's hard, Grandpa."

"Well, I think you two are doing a marvelous job," Richard praised. "Will you be ok here for a little while?"

Christopher looked up in confusion. "You're leaving? But you just got here." His lip came out in a pout.

Richard smiled and knelt down to Christopher's level. "No, I'm not leaving. I was just going to ask if it was ok if I take your mom down to the cafeteria for breakfast. I think she's hungry, I heard her tummy making noises," he whispered playfully.

Christopher giggled. "Mommy!" he called.

Rachel came over quickly. "Yes, honey?"

"Go eat with Grandpa so your tummy stops yelling."

Rachel glanced between her father and her son in confusion. "What?"

"We're going downstairs to get some breakfast," Richard explained. "You and me."

Rachel shook her head. "Oh, no, I'm not hungry, I'm just going to stay here with Christopher."

Christopher stood up and put his hands on his hips. Richard chuckled when he recognized the pose as one Rachel used when she was his age. "Mommy," Christopher said sternly, "do what Grandpa says."

Rachel smiled in amusement. "And who says so?"

The arms went from the hips to cross at his chest. "I do," he said firmly. "And bring me back a banana."

Rachel laughed and lunged at the boy, tickling him as he giggled and squealed. Amanda laughed and Rachel reached out and gently tickled her as well.

"Ok, Little Man, I'm going. We'll be right downstairs. If you need us just ask the nurse and she'll page me," she said as Richard pulled her toward the door.

Christopher rolled his eyes in a perfect imitation of his mother. "Mommy, go."

"Ok, we'll be back in a little while, sweetie."

"Don't forget my banana!"

33333

It took them awhile to find the cafeteria, and in the end they had to ask someone for directions, but Rachel knew that in the weeks to come it would become a familiar path for her to travel.

She walked through the food selections with Daddy, picking out what she wanted, glaring when he reached over her and added an extra helping of whatever she'd chosen to her plate.

"You need to eat," he kept telling her, dropping more food onto her tray. "If you're going to be spending so much time here, the least you can do is take care of yourself too."

"I'm never going to be able to eat all of that," she complained, looking at her full tray of food as he added a banana and paid the cashier.

"Sure you will," he said cheerfully. "We're not going back upstairs until you do."

She glared at him again as they sat down. "That's not fair," she said.

He grinned at her from across the table. "That's always been the rule. Meals must be finished." He pointed his spoon at her. "Now, eat up."

She mumbled something under her breath and he chuckled, almost certain he didn't want her to repeat it.

"I got a phone call from Noah last night," he told her casually after a few moments.

She glanced up from her salad. "Oh? What did he want?"

The corners of Richard's eyes crinkled in amusement. "He wanted to make up a schedule."

Rachel tilted her head inquisitively. "What kind of schedule?"

"A visiting schedule. We all come different days so you never have to be up here alone."

Rachel smiled and she was sure she felt her insides melting a little. "Daddy, that's not necessary."

"Of course it is," Richard said. "I thought it was a wonderful idea, and so did David when I told him."

"Daddy, really-"

"Rachel, none of us want you to be sitting up here, day in, day out, by yourself. No way. Dad and I were going to be up here a lot anyway, but obviously there are going to be days where neither of us can be here, so this works out."

"So Noah would come instead."

"Or Will or Emma," Richard agreed.

"That's ridiculous, they have school, they can't just drop that. Their students need them!"

"They'll mostly be confined to weekends, sweetheart," Richard soothed. "Their students won't suffer. Besides, Emma said she has plenty of vacation time she's been saving up but she's too neurotic to get on a plane to actually go anywhere so this works out."

"It's a long drive," Rachel said softly. "A _really_ long drive."

"No one's too concerned with that," Richard said honestly. "And if someone is, then they don't have to come. This is voluntary. Everyone _wants_ to be here, baby. And what kind of parents would your father and I be if we discouraged that, hmm?"

Rachel gazed at her father fondly. "Thank you, Daddy," she said quietly.

"Oh, don't thank me, thank Noah," Richard said. "This was all his idea. He just wanted to know what days your Dad and I wanted. I think he made an _actual_ paper schedule that he's going to mail out."

Rachel chuckled. "I can't even believe that. He used to laugh at my organizational skills."

"I think this is important to him," Richard said slowly. "He was very insistent that we stick to this schedule so that you aren't sitting up here by yourself."

Rachel smiled to herself. It was something Noah would do, she knew. He had always been protective of her in high school, even if he hadn't liked to advertise it. He'd gotten her panties back from Jacob Ben Israel after he'd found out she'd given them up for Quinn. He'd taken a slushie for her and had beaten up her attackers on more than one occasion. He had moved the glist off her locker so it didn't upset her. He had stood up for her in glee club more than once, defending her talent to the rest of the group. It wasn't unheard of for Noah Puckerman to go the distance for someone he cared about, especially her.

Her father was staring at her with a glint of suspicion and something else she couldn't name in his eye.

"He likes Christopher," she told him. "He thinks he's a good kid."

"He is a good kid," Richard agreed. "But lots of people think so."

She sighed, putting her fork down. "What are you getting at?"

Richard took in her defensive posture and sighed himself. "I'm not getting at anything, sweetheart, really. I just…I worry about you sometimes, that's all."

"I have a sick child," Rachel said firmly. "That's everything to me right now. Whatever else it is that you're worried about, I can assure you, isn't even on my mind right now."

"I'm not saying that," Richard said quickly. "I'm not saying anything like that. Christopher is your top priority and everyone knows that."

"Then why are we having this conversation?" Rachel asked in frustration.

"We're not," Richard said, holding his hands up in surrender. "It's fine, I'm sorry, I don't know where I was going with that."

Rachel sighed. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't get much sleep last night, I'm a little cranky."

Richard nodded. "How about we get back upstairs and give Christopher his banana?"

33333

By the time they'd gotten back upstairs, the playroom was nearly empty. Katelyn told them Christopher had been taken back to his room for his afternoon dose of chemo.

"We brought his banana," Rachel said absently.

Katelyn smiled sympathetically. "He may still want it. Or maybe later."

Rachel nodded, remembering the sickness her son had dealt with the night before. She led her father back down the hall to his room.

Christopher was tucked in bed, cartoons playing softly on the television. "Hi, Mommy," he said weakly.

She brushed a cool hand over his brow, cringing slightly at how warm he felt. "Hi, baby. Did you have fun with Amanda?"

Christopher nodded, smothering a yawn. "She's nice. She gots a tumor in her brain," he told his mother.

"Well, I'm sure she's glad to have a friend like you," Rachel told him, smothering her horror. This was the one thing she knew she'd never get over, all of these innocent little children suffering so much. Her son was sick, she knew, but it could be so much worse, there could be no hope at all. But he was getting treatment, a treatment that might mean he could live a normal, healthy life someday, and she thanked whoever was listening every day that that was the case. Some parents didn't even have that much.

Christopher drifted off into a restless sleep and her Daddy left soon after, reminding her that Dad would be there tomorrow morning. She smiled as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and Christopher's, and told him to text her when he got home.

Christopher had settled into a deeper sleep but she left the television on low, not minding the background noise as she watched her son. Her thoughts drifted to Christopher as a baby, how happy he'd been, how happy they'd all been.

She'd heard horror stories about new babies, about how they never slept, cried all the time. Christopher had been nothing like that. He slept through the night for the first time two days after they'd brought him home. He was a happy baby, content to eat, sleep and generally entertain himself. She and Jason had gotten plenty of sleep in those first few months and had genuinely enjoyed having a child.

He'd proposed when they found out she was pregnant and she was so glad now that she'd said no. She had always been more liberal than not, and hadn't seen her pregnancy as a reason to get married. She sometimes wondered if a part of her had known Jason wouldn't stick around all along.

And sometimes she wondered, if Christopher hadn't gotten sick, how different her life might be, if Jason would still be around.

She had loved him, truly loved him. She'd met him in a little coffee shop two years after she'd moved to New York. She'd hated him instantly. He pursued her with a persistence that tried her patience to the point that she'd agreed to go out with him, just to get him off her back. They'd gone on their first date and never looked back.

She hadn't loved everything about him. He could be surly and could be quite violent in his temper, though he had never hit her and she was confident he never would. He was a writer and when inspiration was there, he was happy and smiling. When his publisher sent back something he had written, declaring it not good enough, the whole apartment building knew it from the volume of his yelling.

He was a good father, though, those first two years. He loved Christopher so much, doted on him all the time. She thought that's what made it so hard when he walked away. She hadn't seen it coming.

She'd been devastated with the diagnosis, of course, they both were. No parent wants to hear that their child is sick, much less with something as terrifying as cancer. But she thought that they'd support each other, lean on each other, make each other stronger.

She had been wrong.

She'd come home from the hospital after a long day of being with Christopher and had immediately stumbled over a suitcase by the front door. Two smaller bags were packed beside it on the floor.

She had instantly gone cold all over, knowing but not wanting to believe.

Jason was in the bedroom, their bedroom, staring at a picture of the three of them taken only months before. They all looked happy. They all looked healthy.

He was sorry, he'd told her. He couldn't do it. Watch his son get sicker and sicker every day until he died.

She tried to tell him about the chemo, the treatments, the survival rate.

He wouldn't listen.

He didn't know how to handle this, he told her. Not like she did. He wasn't good at sick people. He couldn't stand spending his days at the hospital with his son in misery.

She hadn't yelled at him then, hadn't called him the selfish son of a bitch she now knew he was. Instead she'd begged, cried and pleaded with him to stay, stay with her and their son. We need you, she told him.

He was gone ten minutes later.

She wasn't much of a drinker, never had been, but that night she'd drank almost the entire bottle of vodka Jason kept in one of the cabinets. It burned her throat and she welcomed the pain. She drank and cried and threw up until she couldn't hold her head up anymore, crawling into bed alone for the first of many nights.

Her hangover the next morning reminded her of why she didn't drink but she'd gotten up with the alarm, showered and taken a handful of aspirin before putting on her sunglasses and hailing a cab to the hospital to spend the day with her son.

Christopher hadn't asked where Jason was for two days, and, looking back, she supposed that said a lot. He hadn't really been to see his son after the hospitalization.

He'd been sick the day he finally asked, and her heart broke for her little boy when he turned to her with tears in his eyes and uttered the single word: Daddy?

She hadn't known what to tell him, she told him that Daddy wasn't going to be around for awhile, that it was him and Mommy and that he didn't need to worry because she would be right there with him every single day.

She hadn't broken that promise to him yet and she never intended to.

He never brought up Jason again and neither had she. He was a bright boy, she thought he had it figured out, at least to some degree. It may be as simple as _asking about Daddy makes Mommy cry_ to his innocent mind but Jason was simply never spoken of again. The pictures of the three of them were replaced by pictures of Rachel and Christopher, Will and Emma and Christopher, Christopher and his grandfathers.

She was thankful he was so young and it had been so easy on him. His memories would fade and in time, she hoped, Jason would simply disappear altogether.

It was a horrible thought, she knew, but Jason had done a horrible thing. He had abandoned not only her when she needed him most, but his son, a part of himself that he had helped bring into this world. Jason was out there somewhere, living his life, not knowing if his son were alive or dead. Not caring if his son were alive or dead.

She couldn't forgive him for that, not ever.

A quiet ringing in her pocket drew her from her thoughts. She withdrew her cell phone and, not recognizing the number, moved closer to the door.

"Hello?" she said softly, not wanting to wake her son.

"Rach." Noah.

"Noah, hello," she said. "How did you get my number?"

"From your dad," he said sheepishly. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, no, that's fine, I was just surprised, that's all."

"How's Christopher?"

Rachel glanced back at her son. "He's sleeping now," she said quietly.

"Rough day?"

"The treatments make him tired, sick sometimes," she said simply.

"How are you doing?"

Rachel smiled a little bit. "I'm fine, Noah. You don't have to worry about me."

"Someone should. God knows you won't worry about yourself."

"Noah," she scolded.

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I was just calling to see if there's anything you need. I was planning on coming back tomorrow."

Her forehead creased in confusion. "I thought Dad was coming tomorrow. Messing with the schedule already?" she teased.

"Your dad told you, huh?" She was pretty sure if she could see him, he would be blushing.

"He was quite amused by it, although he did think it was a good idea. I swear," she said. "You'd think I was two instead of twenty five."

"He cares about you, Rach," he said.

"I know," she said quietly. "And I appreciate it. I do."

"Well, your Dad got stuck in Chicago for one more day, your…other Dad? Anyway, he called to let me know."

Rachel giggled softly. "So you're coming instead."

"Yep. Be there bright and early in the morning."

"You don't have to," she told him.

"No shit."

She laughed again. "Same old Noah."

"Same old Rachel," he retorted. "Stubborn as always."

She laughed again. "Speaking of things that will never change huh?"

He laughed with her. "Yeah, we've grown so much."

"You have," she told him.

"Yeah, well, so have you." He cleared his throat. "So is there anything you need, anything you want from home?"

"Well, Daddy was going to send up some more clothes and a few other things with Dad, but I have some clothes here that he brought today, so I think I'm ok."

"Ok," he said. "If you think of anything, text me. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok," she said softly. "Thanks, Noah."

"Anytime, babe. Get some rest."

He hung up on her before she could chastise him for mothering her again.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Christopher was sick again that night, much more violently than the previous day. Debbie was the night shift nurse and Rachel rang for her immediately when Christopher started vomiting. Half asleep, the little boy didn't know enough reach for the bedpan they kept at his bedside and Rachel once again found herself covered in vomit.

Debbie came instantly and the two women got the boy and the portable IV pole into the bathroom, Christopher vomiting the whole way. Rachel supported her son as he vomited over the toilet, again and again. She bit the inside of her lip as he continued to dry heave long after his stomach was empty. She whispered quietly to him, hummed his favorite song as he cried.

After throwing up for what seemed like hours, they again put the little boy in the shower and cleaned him up. They eased him back into the hospital room and Rachel winced at the two men in maintenance uniforms mopping the floor. The bed was already made.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured as she passed them.

"Not a problem," Debbie assured her. "It happens all the time and the kids can't help it. Don't you worry about it."

They tucked Christopher back into bed and he wouldn't let go of Rachel's hand. She reeked of vomit, had it in her hair, all down the front of her clothes, but she stayed at her son's side, singing softly to him as he clutched at his stomach and cried himself to sleep.

After she was sure he was asleep she headed back into the bathroom, showering quickly. She put on a pair of yoga pants and a giant hooded sweatshirt she assumed belonged to her father. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, not even bothering to brush it, just wanting to get back to her son.

The room was dark, the blinds in the window letting in a sliver of moonlight. As she sat at her son's bedside, taking in his pale appearance, the reflection of the light off his tiny bald head, she allowed herself to think for the first time since coming home about what would happen if this didn't work. What would they do if the chemo failed him like it had in New York?

She tried hard not to think about it. The chemo had just started, there was still a good chance it would work, a chance it would cure her son.

She just had to believe that.

33333

True to his word, Puck arrived early at the hospital the next morning. He locked his car, smothering a yawn as he slung a duffle bag over his shoulder and juggled the carrier of coffee and breakfast he'd bought just down the road.

He hadn't been sure he'd be able to, but he found his way to the children's ward again with little difficulty. He tapped lightly on Christopher's door before letting himself in.

The little boy was sleeping soundly, Puck could tell right away, but his mother looked like she hadn't slept all night. She had a chair pulled up next to her son's bed and her eyes were glued to his still form. She hadn't heard him come in.

"Rach," he called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She jumped anyway. "Noah!"

He chuckled lightly. "Morning, sunshine."

She stood up, casting a final glance down at her son before approaching him. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I said bright and early," he teased.

"Yes, but this is _really early_," she stressed. "You must have gotten up before dawn."

In truth, Puck had actually been up long before that. He had come home from work the night before and gone right to sleep, knowing he'd have to be up early to get up here as early as he wanted. He'd woken a little after midnight and hadn't been back to sleep since.

He knew he would probably be miserable at work tomorrow, but, looking at Rachel's exhausted features now, he thought it would be worth it.

"It's all good," he told her. He gestured to the carrier he was holding. "I brought coffee and breakfast."

She started to protest but stopped herself. "Coffee sounds wonderful," she said wearily.

She led him down the hall to a small lounge, letting the nurse at the desk know where she would be if her son needed her. The lounge was empty and he wasn't surprised. Fuck, it was _early._

She sat down in one of the chairs and he immediately sat beside her. He placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. "Drink," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him but did as he said.

"You look like you could fall over," he commented casually. "Rough night?"

She nodded, pushing a piece of hair from her forehead. "Yes. He got sick again last night, very sick. I didn't sleep."

"At all?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Shit, Rachel, you need to take care of yourself," he told her. "That means sleeping too."

"I know," she nodded. "But so far, he's only gotten sick when he's been sleeping and he was really sick last night, Noah. I didn't want to sleep."

"It's really hard on him."

"Yes. He's been through it before, obviously, and he was sick then too. I just forgot how much I hate watching him like that. It's been two years, he hasn't gotten sick once since the last round of chemo in New York."

He watched silently as she picked at her bagel. He didn't know what to say to her. Finally he said, "I know it's hard to watch him sick, but this will help him, right?" She nodded hesitantly. "So every time you watch him being sick, just tell yourself that, remind yourself. He's sick now, but it would be so much worse without the medicine."

She nodded. "You're right, of course," she allowed wearily. "I just hate it."

He watched as she pushed her food aside and her eyes started to droop. She needed to sleep. He knew she wouldn't do it willingly, but he'd be damned if she suffered from exhaustion on his watch.

He slid his arm casually around her shoulders, pulling her close. She didn't fight him. "Did I ever tell you about the time Matt, Mike and I almost got arrested?"

"No," she murmured, and her eyelids fluttered again.

"Oh, yeah, it was epic," he said quietly. "We were driving around one night, bored as fuck, just looking for something to do, some shit to stir up."

"Not surprising," she said, her slurring voice telling him she was close to sleep.

"We were driving down this back road, no lights, no pavement, nothing. And there was this cow in the middle of the road. A fucking cow, can you believe that?"

She didn't answer and he looked down to find her asleep. He smiled softly, grabbing his jacket and slinging it over her gently. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

"Sleep tight, Rach," he whispered, settling back in his chair, the exhausted brunette tucked into his side.

33333

The first thing Rachel became aware of was that someone was gently shaking her, calling her name softly.

She cracked her eyes open, wincing against the bright overhead light.

"Rach?"

She sat up a little. "Noah?"

"Hey, sorry to wake you up, but the nurse says Christopher is asking for you."

She glared at him. "You let me go to sleep?"

He looked pleased with himself. "Yep."

"For how long?"

"Three hours."

Her mouth dropped open and she hurried to stand up. "Are you serious? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because Christopher was fine," he told her. "The nurse brought him down on their way to the playroom and he was fine."

"But he's asking for me now?" she clarified.

Puck nodded. "Yes. The nurse said he had his chemo and isn't feeling well."

Rachel hurried down the hallway to her son's room, Puck trailing behind her. Her son was tucked in bed and rolled his head to look at her when she came in.

"Mommy."

She was by his side in an instant. "Hey, baby, how are you feeling?"

"I don't feel good, Mommy," he whined. "My tummy hurts."

"Aww, my poor baby. Is there anything I can do?"

Christopher held his arms out. "Cuddles," he said simply.

Rachel smiled down at him and eased him over to one side of the bed. She slid her shoes off and climbed into the bed beside him, taking him gently in her arms. "How's that, Bug?"

He snuggled closer. "Better, Mommy," he said wearily.

She rubbed her hand gently over his back. "Do you need anything else?"

"Billy," he said.

"Sweetie, I don't have any Billy here, I don't have my iPod."

"Actually," Puck interjected, "you do." He pulled the duffle bag he'd brought with him this morning from under the bed. "Your dad sent it up with your docking station."

Christopher looked up at his mother. "Billy?" he asked hopefully.

Rachel smiled. "Noah, will you please hook it up for us? Christopher wants to hear some Billy Joel."

"Billy Joel?" Puck asked with a grimace. "Why?"

Christopher stuck his tongue out. "My Billy," he pouted.

"Christopher has always loved Billy Joel, for some reason," Rachel said. "We've never been able to figure out why but it's what he likes to listen to when he's not feeling well."

"Well, then I'll just hook up some Billy Joel here," Puck said, managing not to cringe.

"A long time," Christopher said.

Puck glanced at him uncertainly, not sure what he wanted. Rachel laughed lightly. "He wants _The Longest Time_," Rachel told him. "It's his favorite song."

"Of course it is," Puck grumbled, flipping through Rachel's playlists until he found one titled "Billy Joel".

The song came on and Puck adjusted the volume so Christopher could hear it without disturbing the other patients. He snuggled back into his mother and she sang softly to him, rubbing his back until he fell asleep.

They sat through three more Billy Joel songs while they watched Christopher sleep before Puck couldn't stand it anymore.

"Can I turn that off now?" he asked, a touch of humor in his voice. "My ears are starting to bleed."

"Don't mock Billy Joel," Rachel said sternly. "He's a musical legend."

"Complete with his own crappy Broadway play," Puck quipped.

"Noah!"

He chuckled. "Hey, would you rather be in Mamma Mia or Movin' Out?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Shut up."

He saluted her. "Yes, ma'am."

She chuckled lightly, glancing down to make sure they weren't disturbing Christopher. "What else did Daddy send?"

He riffled through the bag on the floor. "Some more clothes-cute undies by the way," he said, sending a wink her way. "A few books for Christopher, a few for you, some magazines."

"Thank you for bringing it."

"No problem."

They were quiet for a few more minutes and she hesitated over the question that had been plaguing her since yesterday. "Noah," she started. "Don't take this the wrong way but…why are you here?"

He blinked at her. "Because your dad's stuck in Chicago, I told you that, Berry."

She nodded. "Yes, I know, but I mean…I guess I mean more in general. Why are you here, why did you make the schedule?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you trying to ask me, Rachel?"

Her cheeks were warm but she refused to look away from his gaze. "Noah," she said slowly, "this is about my son for me. That's it. There's no chance of…anything else happening here."

He kept his face blank but she could tell he was seething inside. "Like what?"

She hesitated again before rushing forward. "Sex. You're being very sweet and caring and you're around a lot and I know you're different, but I knew you in high school and I know how you were then and I just want to be clear that that's not going to happen. It's not."

He nodded carefully. "Well, I guess I should be going then. I mean, if there's no chance of me getting laid, why would I bother to stick around, right?"

She could tell she'd made him angry. "Noah, I'm sorry," she said. "I just wanted to be clear."

"And I want to be clear on something too, Berry," he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward. "I'm here because I want to be. That's it. I'm not chasing a piece of ass, I'm not waiting around to pick you up. Just so we're clear."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. I was out of line. I just…I don't understand."

He sat back, his anger fading a little. "What don't you understand?"

She met his eyes. "Christopher's sick. This is our life. There is a chance, as much as I hate to even think about it, that he won't survive this. Why would you want to hang around this? Most people wouldn't unless they have to. And you don't have to."

He sighed, shaking his head a little. "Honestly, Rach, I don't know," he told her. "Maybe it's because my mom is a single mom and I watched her struggle and I wasn't able to do a whole lot to help her back then. Maybe Christopher's gotten to me. Maybe it's you."

"Me?"

He gave her his trademark smirk and she ignored the way her heart thudded in her chest. "Yes, you. Come on, we've always had this weird thing between us, even in high school."

"You've always been protective of me," she admitted.

"Not always," he reminded her, cringing a little at the memories of dousing her in cold flavored syrup.

"That was a long time ago," she said softly. "And we moved past that a long time ago."

He nodded. "I don't know why I want to be here, but I do. I _want_ to be here. Your main priority is your son, I know that. Taking care of him, that's your focus. But taking care of you? That's mine, because I know damn good and well you're not going to do it yourself. Just stop fighting it," he told her.

She smiled gently, blinking back a few tears. "Ok, Noah," she said softly. "And I'm sorry. I was out of line."

"Already forgotten, Rach," he told her. "No worries."

They were quiet again after that and Rachel could feel her eyes drifting closed. "Noah," she said drowsily.

"Hmm?"

"I think I might take a little nap."

He smiled at her from his chair beside the bed. "That's cool, babe. I'm just gonna go through your bag, maybe check out the undies again. Seriously, hot as hell."

"Mmk, have fun," she murmured. Realizing what he'd said, her eyes shot open again. "Hey!"

He smirked at her. "Just kidding. Though I might read one of the books your dad sent."

"Go for it," she urged. "Wake me when Christopher wakes up?"

He nodded. "Ok. Now quit your yapping and go to sleep, you're distracting me."

She smiled at him, smothering a yawn. "Ok, Noah. Thanks."

33333

Puck was about halfway through the book when he noticed Christopher was awake and staring at him.

"Noah?" the little boy whispered.

Puck put down the book. "Yeah, buddy."

A pained look crossed his face. "I don't feel so good."

Puck stood up, walking closer to the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I think I need to frow up."

"Throw up?" Puck clarified. Christopher nodded miserably. Puck looked around, then back at Rachel sleeping peacefully. "Ok, maybe we should wake your mom up."

"No, Mommy's tired. Hurry, Noah."

Puck panicked before mentally slapping himself. Christopher was looking a little green and he needed to get it together. Christopher's IV bag was already on a mobile pole, so Puck leaned down and gently lifted the little boy from the bed. Rachel stirred a little but did not wake up.

He nudged the pole with his foot as he carried Christopher into the bathroom. The little boy leaned over the toilet and vomited instantly and Puck cringed, knowing what would have happened if he'd been any slower.

He stayed with the little boy as he was sick, hand resting gently on his back. When Christopher was done, Puck got him a cup of water.

"Toothpaste?" Christopher asked, making a face. "My mouth tastes yucky."

"I think your mom has some in the room, let me go check. Stay right here, ok?" Christopher nodded and Puck went back into his room. He checked the bag Rachel's dad sent but there was no toothpaste. He opened the drawer to the bedside table and found a small tube.

"Noah? What are you doing? Where's Christopher?"

He grimaced. Rachel was awake.

"Hey, Rach. Just getting some toothpaste. Christopher got sick, but he's fine now, don't worry. He just wants to brush his teeth."

Despite his assurances her son was fine, Rachel was up in a flash and was right behind him when he returned to the bathroom.

"Oh, Bug, were you sick again?"

He nodded. "Yes, but Noah gots me to the bathroom just in time."

She smiled and ran a hand over his head. "That's good, baby. You wanna bush your teeth?"

"I got your toothpaste, buddy," Puck said, holding up the tube.

They watched as Christopher brushed his teeth, swishing some extra water around for good measure. When he was done, Rachel helped him back to bed.

"Do you want to go down to the playroom? Maybe Amanda's down there," Rachel said.

Christopher shook his head. "Can we just watch cartoons?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

Puck spent the rest of his day watching reruns of Scooby Doo and Sponge Bob Square Pants with Rachel and her son.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Two weeks passed since Christopher's admittance into Rainbow Babies and Children's Hospital. He continued to receive doses of chemo twice a day and Rachel spent every day and every night with him at the hospital.

Their visitors were constant and ever changing. Puck insisted on keeping the schedule a secret and Rachel was surprised with a new visitor every day. She awoke early one Saturday morning to see a cheerful redhead reading to her son.

She smiled. "Emma."

The guidance counselor returned the smile. "Good morning, Rachel. Did we wake you?"

Rachel stretched a little, arching her back. "No." She leaned over and kissed her son. "Morning, Bug."

Christopher giggled. "Ew, cooties."

Rachel pretended to be angry. "Cooties? I'm your mother, you can't get cooties from me, you little monster," she said, tickling him.

Christopher giggled and squirmed on the bed. "Mommy, stop. Mommy!"

She tickled him once more and stopped, laughing herself as she climbed down from his bed to give Emma a hug.

"Thanks for coming," she told the redhead.

"It's my pleasure. I'm just sorry I can't come more often."

"Don't be," Rachel told her. "You have a job and those kids need you. Trust me, I remember what high school was like."

"Kids will be kids," Emma agreed. "It seems like he's doing well," she said, lowering her voice.

Rachel shrugged. "He has his moments, I guess."

Emma pulled Rachel into the corner of the room as Christopher flipped through his book again. "Is he not doing ok?"

Rachel glanced back at her son before answering. "He's doing ok, but not great," she admitted. "I spoke with the doctor a few days ago and his counts aren't where they'd like them to be. And the treatments make him very sick. He hasn't been to the playroom in two days."

"Are they going to keep trying?"

"Dr. Stevens said he wants to give it some more time, but I think he's already started making other plans."

"You mean a transplant," Emma said cautiously.

"He hasn't said yet, but I think he's starting to seriously consider it."

Emma could see the conflicted look on Rachel's face. "Sweetie, if that's what he needs…"

Rachel nodded. "I know. It's just…new. Chemo, we've dealt with before. Chemo, I know how to handle. A transplant is new."

"I'm sure the doctor will do what he thinks is best. If he thinks a transplant is best, then maybe it is."

"I know," Rachel said, tucking an unruly piece of hair behind her ears. "I just hate the thought that the chemo isn't working anymore."

33333

Two days later Rachel sat with her father David Berry in Christopher's room. Dad had taken her for dinner in the cafeteria and she had been paged five minutes ago back to her son's room. She had arrived in a panic to see her son once again over the toilet in the bathroom with Debbie, another nurse changing the sheets on the bed.

Once they had Christopher settled in, Debbie motioned her towards the door. "Dr. Stevens said he'd like to speak with you," she said. "He's doing rounds now, but he'll be by once he's done."

A feeling of dread settled in Rachel's stomach. "Did he say why?"

"No, I'm sorry, he didn't," Debbie said sympathetically. "But I think he wants to speak to the family. If you'd like me to sit with Christopher when he comes, just buzz the desk."

Rachel sat back down beside her son's bed, watching as he fell instantly into a deep sleep. She closed her eyes, resting her head in her hands.

"Sweetheart?" Dad asked quietly.

"Dr. Stevens wants to talk to us," she said, not bothering to raise her head. "He's going to stop by soon."

"Ok." Both were quiet after that, neither saying a word.

"This isn't working," Rachel said suddenly. "The chemo's not working anymore."

"I'm afraid you're right," a voice said from the doorway. They turned to see a solemn Dr. Stevens standing there. "Rachel. David. Can we talk outside?"

Rachel nodded, buzzing the nurses' desk. Debbie appeared instantly and took her place beside the bed while Rachel and David followed Dr. Stevens down the hall to the empty lounge.

"So it's not working," Rachel said bluntly.

"Not as well as we'd hoped," Dr. Stevens admitted.

Rachel took a deep breath. "So what do we do now?"

"Well, we have a few choices," the doctor told her. "We can stick with the chemo and hope it kicks in at some point. Or we can go ahead with a bone marrow transplant."

"Why would you stick with the chemo?" David asked. "I mean, if it's not working?"

"The transplant isn't a guarantee either," the doctor cautioned them. "And there are a number of things that have to happen before we can even do a transplant. We have to find a donor, start immunosuppressant drugs so Christopher doesn't reject the new marrow. This isn't something that can be done tomorrow."

"What are the odds?" Rachel asked softly.

"With the chemo, considering we aren't seeing much improvement in his counts, 30-70, if that," the doctor said frankly.

Rachel closed her eyes briefly. "And with the transplant?"

"50-50."

"He's a fighter," David said, putting his hand on his daughter's shaking shoulder. "If he has even the slightest chance, I am confident in him."

Rachel looked at the doctor, feeling conflicted. "What do you recommend?"

"Either choice is tricky," he hedged. "Neither is a guarantee."

"If it was you, if it was your child, what would you do?" Rachel pushed.

The doctor sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "I'd do the transplant," he told her quietly. "But it's your choice."

Rachel nodded, turning to her father. "Dad?"

"Sweetheart, he's right, this is your choice."

Rachel bit her lip, staring down at her hands. "Do it," she said quietly. "Do the transplant."

Dr. Stevens nodded. "I'll put him on the donor list immediately. And I'll schedule you both for testing. It's rare that a family member outside of a sibling is a good match, but we'll check, just to be sure."

"Schedule Richard too," David said. "He'll want to be tested."

Dr. Stevens nodded. "I'll take care of it. I'll have him started on immunosuppressant drugs first thing in the morning so he'll be ready when we find a donor. You're going to have to start taking precautions now. With his immune system suppressed, even the slightest cold can be deadly. You're going to have to start wearing protective suits, clean suits, we call them, when you visit him. And Rachel, you won't be able to spend the night anymore."

Rachel cringed but nodded. "But I can still visit?"

"Anytime," the doctor nodded. "But no overnight visitors. It's too risky."

"I'll tell him tonight," she said. "He'll probably be upset."

"He might be," the doctor conceded. "But he'll probably be sleeping a lot more once we start the drugs. It's probably best."

Rachel nodded again. "I'll tell him tonight," she repeated.

33333

Rachel had expected her son to be upset when she told him she couldn't stay with him overnight anymore. What she hadn't expected was the biggest temper tantrum he'd ever thrown.

"I hate you!" he screamed.

She winced. "Christopher, please-"

"I hate you. You're leaving, just like he did! You're never coming back!"

"That is not true," Rachel said firmly. "I will be here every day, just like I always have been. I just can't sleep in here anymore."

"You lie!"

"Bug, honey-"

He grasped the IV in his hand, struggling with the tape before yanking it out. He screamed but his anger wasn't abated. A monitor started beeping at his bedside.

Rachel grabbed his arms to calm him down, vaguely aware of her father behind her, trying to help, but her son kept flailing. "Stop it," he screamed. "Stop it!"

A nurse came in and gently moved Rachel out of the way. "Christopher, honey, now calm down, it's ok," she said.

Dad grabbed her shoulders and moved her out of the way, out of Christopher's eye line. She watched the nurse dab at his hand with a cotton ball before reinserting his IV. Christopher stared at her and cried.

Rachel wasn't aware she was crying too until her father pulled her toward the door. "Go get some coffee, something to eat," he ordered. "I'll stay with him, calm him down."

"No, I should be here," Rachel said, swiping at the tears that just kept coming.

"Honey, he's upset right now. I think he just needs to cool down and you could use a break too. Thirty minutes. Give me thirty minutes to calm him down and then you can come back."

That's how Rachel found herself in the lounge, head in her hands, sobbing. Her phone rang and she debated not picking it up until she saw Noah's number flash on the screen.

"Hey, Rach," he said. "I'm coming to visit tomorrow, anything you need?"

"He hates me," she sobbed.

"What?" He sounded startled. "Rachel, what's wrong?"

Rachel babbled about the chemo not working, the transplant she had consented to, the precautions they'd have to take. "He hates me, Noah. He thinks I'm leaving him and he hates me," she sobbed.

"He doesn't hate you."

"He said he does!" She tried to catch her breath but the tears wouldn't stop.

"Babe, he's upset. He's scared. He's in the hospital, with doctors and nurses coming in at all times and he has a needle in his hand all the time and he has to take these huge pills that, I swear, I couldn't even swallow. He's scared. He just needs to vent a little. It's ok, he didn't mean it."

"But he said it," she cried.

"Babe," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "He loves you. So much. He didn't mean it. I promise you, he didn't mean it."

She sniffled into the phone, not caring how gross she probably sounded. "Ok."

"Rach, there is no one he wants there with him more than you," Noah said in a low voice. "You are the one person who has been there for him every single day of his life and he may be just a kid, but he knows that. He knows that, baby."

She sighed, her mind barely registering the fact that he had just called her baby. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm upset, I'm scared. He's never thrown a tantrum before in his life, ever. Not like this, not at me."

"It'll be ok," he assured her. "In an hour he'll have forgotten all about it."

She wiped her eyes with a tissue, glad the tears were finally drying up. "Thank you, Noah," she said softly.

"No problem. Is there anything you want me to bring tomorrow?"

"Maybe another book for him? I'll have Dad pick one out when he goes home."

"I got one," he said casually. "I was at the bookstore and I found one I think he'll like."

"I don't know if they'll let him have it," Rachel said doubtfully. "But bring it anyway."

"Well, if they don't then he can just read it when he feels better," Noah said cheerfully. "We'll figure it out."

"They're testing me and my dads in the morning," Rachel said quietly. "To see if our bone marrow is a good enough match. They don't think it will be, but they want to be sure."

"Sign me up," he said instantly.

"For what?"

"Testing. Test mine too. You never know, it might be a match."

"You'd do that?"

"For you? For your son? You bet."

Rachel's breath caught in her chest and she was quiet for a moment. "Thank you," she said breathlessly. "Noah…thank you."

"Not yet, babe," he cautioned. "Don't thank me til we see."

She cleared her throat and blinked away the tears that had appeared again. "I should go check on Christopher," she told him.

"Ok," Noah said easily. "I'll see you in the morning. And just remember: you are the most important person in the world to him and he loves you."

She smiled as she said goodbye. When she entered Christopher's room, her dad excused himself to go get a cup of coffee. Christopher looked up at her from the bed and reached his arms up. "Cuddles," he said.

Rachel climbed in bed with him again and held him close.

"I don't hate you, Mommy," he said in a small voice.

Rachel closed her eyes briefly, pressing a kiss to her son's head. "I know, Bug."

"I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, sweetie. You are the best thing in my life and I am never going to leave you."

"Never ever?" he asked.

"Never ever," Rachel promised.

He snuggled into her side and she held him tight, knowing this would be the last night she'd be able to for awhile.

33333

AN: Probably should have mentioned this before, but I've written quite a bit more than I've published so far (the story is actually almost done...and over 17 chapters so far!), so unfortunately it's not possible to accommodate all requests. However, I have gotten some great ideas from you guys that I will be using (and crediting, of course!) so please keep reviewing. It's like crack to us writers to get reviews, especially such positive ones!

Also, I love the reviews from those of you who have gone through something similar. I like to write about real things, emotional things not just fluff (though I do love my fluff!) and to know that I'm touching the right places, even just a little bit, and my characters hold up with real life experiences is awesome to me. You guys are the strong ones and you guys are the inspiration for Rachel, especially in chapters to come! Thanks so much, everyone!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Rachel stood in the hallway early the next morning, Christopher in a wheelchair at her side, watching through the window in the door as nurses in special suits scrubbed the hospital room top to bottom. Everything not mounted to the floor or the wall was brought out into the hallway. They scrubbed everything, including the walls and the floor.

She and Christopher watched as, piece by piece, items were disinfected and moved quickly back into the room: the bed, the monitors, the chairs. Christopher was taken in last, carried in by a scrub-clad nurse with a mask over her face. He looked back at Rachel, who was currently being tied into a clean suit of her own.

"It's ok," she told her son. "I'll be there in just a few minutes."

The nurse carried him inside and the door shut behind him. A large sign on the door read "Caution: Sterile Environment. Authorized visitors only."

A nurse showed Rachel how to pull her hair under a scrub cap and tie it up. She placed a mask over her face and tied it tightly. The nurse nodded when she was done. She could go in now.

The room had the strong smell of disinfectant and she didn't know how her son could stand it, but the little boy didn't even seem to notice. He sat on the bed, looking around the room in wonderment, as if it were the first time he'd ever seen it.

"Are you doing ok, Bug?"

He nodded, his gaze still drifting over the room. "Yep. Is Noah coming today?"

"He said he would be here."

"Will he have to dress as funny as you?"

Rachel looked down at herself and had to admit she did look pretty funny. She was covered head to toe in a blue gown, with little cloth coverings over her shoes, face and hair. The gown was obviously designed for someone of a larger stature and she was pretty much swimming in it.

"Everyone will have to dress like this to come see you now, sweetheart."

"Cause of the germs?"

"Yes, because of the germs. Dr. Stevens is putting you on a new medicine and you can get sick from any kind of germs, even little ones you're always around. We have to dress like this so we don't breathe any germs on you."

He nodded once, satisfied with her answer. They had gone over the whole thing last night, in detail. He had seemed confused and she had tried to keep it simple, only telling him what she thought he'd understand. He was sad that he would no longer be allowed in the playroom, but he had been so tired lately that it had been days since he had been down there anyway.

The worst was that she would be unable to spend the nights with him. Dr. Stevens said hospital policy was to forbid it. It was too dangerous for a patient on immunosuppressant drugs. It would be too easy for one of them to roll over and pull her face mask off, or to have her hair covering slip off while she slept. Then his immune system would be compromised and he could become very ill, which was dangerous.

Rachel hadn't been able yet to do much research on bone marrow transplants, and she regretted it. When Christopher was first diagnosed two years ago she'd scoured the internet, borrowed stacks of books from the library, everything she could get her hands on. She had become an expert on his disease immediately and she missed not knowing everything, not having all of the information. But her time lately had been spent with Christopher and that was much more important to her. She trusted his doctors to do what was best for him, to keep her informed and to help them make the best decisions in regards to Christopher's care.

As little as she currently knew about bone marrow transplants and all of the procedures they had to follow leading up to it, she had realized that compromising a patient on immunosuppressant drugs was a serious thing. She had spoken to Debbie about it last night after Christopher had fallen asleep. Debbie had told her that when Christopher started the drugs, the most basic germ could be deadly to him. A common cold, the flu. Something his body could normally fight off could now be his undoing.

She had seen the concern in the woman's eyes, had heard the seriousness in her voice. She had seen the care the nurses had taken when scrubbing down the hospital room and everything in it. She knew this was a very serious threat her son could be facing.

Her son seemed almost oblivious to the threat as he pulled the remote from the bedside table, turning the television to a cartoon. She was glad, in a way, that he was so unaffected by it all.

A light tap on the door caught both of their attention. The door opened slowly and a blue-clad figure walked in. Noah. His eyes crinkled behind his mask as he took in her outfit.

"Lookin' good, babe," he joked. "What I can see of you, anyway."

"Noah!" Christopher said. "You came!"

"Of course I did, buddy," Noah said. "I wouldn't miss one of our visits for anything."

"We're watching cartoons," Christopher informed him seriously. "Will you help me pick one out?"

"Absolutely," Noah said, walking over to stand by the bed. "Ooh, Speed Racer, that's a good one. You like him?"

Christopher nodded. "Yeah, he goes fast!"

Rachel watched Noah and her son bond over the need for speed and was again distracted when someone else tapped on the door. She looked through the window and Dr. Stevens, standing beside a short woman, motioned her outside. "Christopher, I'm going to step outside for a moment, I'll be right back."

"Ok, Mommy," he said, not even glancing in her direction.

She felt Noah's eyes on her as she walked out the door. "Dr. Stevens," she greeted him.

"Rachel, good morning," the doctor said. "It looks like the staff got the room all cleaned up. Good."

Rachel nodded. "They were very thorough."

"It's necessary," he told her kindly. "As is the clothing."

"It's hard," she admitted. "Not being able to hold my son the way I want to, to cuddle with him the way he wants to."

"You have to be careful," Dr. Stevens agreed, "but don't let it change the way you are with him. You can still do most of the things you always have, you just have to be a bit more careful."

"I'm afraid I'm going to mess up," she said quietly. "I don't want him to get sick because of something I do."

Dr. Stevens nodded, patting her on the shoulder. "I understand," he said. "This is all new and I brought down someone who can help us with this a little bit more." He gestured to the woman at his side. "This is Dr. Emily Ingram, a hematologist in the hospital."

Rachel nodded, shaking Dr. Ingram's hand. "Nice to meet you," she murmured, not quite sure why this woman was being presented to her.

"You as well," Dr. Ingram said. "You're probably wondering why I'm here. A hematologist is a doctor that specializes in blood: diseases, transplants, things like that. I've been brought in as Christopher's doctor now that he's been placed on the bone marrow transplant list."

"Dr. Ingram will be doing the transplant once we get the healthy marrow," Dr. Stevens explained.

"I thought you would be doing that," Rachel said in confusion.

"I'm an oncologist," Dr. Stevens explained. "And as long as Christopher is in this hospital and has leukemia, I am his primary physician. However, his needs are a little more specialized now, we're not just dealing with chemotherapy anymore, and we need a more specialized doctor. Dr. Ingram and I will be working together on Christopher's case. While my main concern is the cancer and curing that, Dr. Ingram's main concern is the transplant and making sure that's successful. We want Christopher to have the best chance possible to fight this and for that to happen we each have different jobs we need to do."

Rachel nodded slowly. "That makes sense, I guess."

"I just wanted to come down and introduce myself," Dr. Ingram said. "Just to make sure the room was in order, the protocols were being followed. And to see if you have any questions, of course."

"Dr. Stevens said we could be tested," Rachel said. "My fathers and I, and a friend of mine as well. But he said it was unlikely we'd be a match. Why is that?"

"That's an excellent question," Dr. Ingram told her. "The best genetic match, for anything really, is from a biological sibling, and even those aren't exact. Siblings share the same genes, acquired from the same sources. Christopher received half of his genes from you, half of his genes from his father. That means you would only be a 50% match, at best, for him. We'd like something closer, stronger, to give him a better chance. Twins have the best success rate, identical twins more so than anything. Some siblings can match up to 95% and we'd prefer that over a 50% match from a parent."

"Christopher doesn't have any siblings," Rachel pointed out. "He's an only child."

Dr. Ingram nodded. "We'll test you anyway, as well as anyone who wants to be tested. It's not likely to find a good match that way, but it's not unheard of, either. He's already on the national transplant list, and anyone in the bone marrow donor registry will be compared to him. Once we find a donor with a good compatibility we can harvest the marrow from them and do the transfer."

Rachel swallowed hard, afraid to ask the next question. "What happens if you don't find a match?"

"There's always a match," Dr. Ingram assured her. "It's just a question of strength. If we can't find as strong a match as we want, we'll just have to use a weaker match instead."

"When can my family and I be tested? What does that involve?"

"A simple blood test," Dr. Ingram informed her. "The harvesting procedure is painful for a donor, but the initial compatibility test is just a blood test. We can test you right now."

"My dads are coming up this afternoon," Rachel said. "Should I wait or should Noah and I get tested now?"

"Noah? The boy's father?"

"No," Rachel said stiffly. "The father is out of the picture."

Dr. Ingram nodded. "I would advise you to go ahead and test whoever's here now, so we can get started, and then we'll test your fathers when they get here."

Rachel nodded. "I'll go get Noah."

Rachel re-entered her son's room to find Christopher sleeping and Noah staring at her. "Dr. Ingram, Christopher's new doctor, wants to test us now," she said, an unexplainable nervousness coming over her. "I mean, if you still want to. Which you totally don't have to, I'd understand. I'm just gonna go, I'll be back."

She turned to leave and he caught her arm. "Babe, relax," he told her. "I haven't changed my mind, I still want to get tested."

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Ok. It shouldn't be too bad, she said it's just a blood test. My dads are coming up later to get tested too, but they want us now."

"Rachel. Breathe." She took a breath. "Look at me." She kept her gaze stubbornly fixed on the door handle. "Rach. Look at me," he said softly. She hesitated before turning her head to look into his eyes. They were a deep green. "It's gonna be ok," he whispered.

She closed her eyes and nodded. "I know."

He tugged gently on her arm and she rested her head against his chest. "It's gonna be ok," he repeated.

She looped her arms loosely around his waist. "I know." She stayed where she was for a few more seconds, enjoying being held, before pulling away and slipping into the hallway, knowing he'd be right behind her.

33333

Rachel sat in the cafeteria late that afternoon, picking at the lunch Noah had insisted on buying her. It looked unappetizing and weeks at this hospital had completely zapped her appetite, especially for hospital food.

Dad and Daddy had shown up over an hour ago and had gotten tested immediately, insisting upon their return that she and Noah take a break and get something to eat. Noah had immediately agreed, waving off the money her fathers pushed at her.

He wasn't eating much either, she noticed, wasn't doing much other than watching her intently.

He saw he was caught but didn't avert his eyes. "You look tired," he commented casually.

"It was a long night last night," she shrugged. "We both knew it was the last time I'll be able to stay with him for awhile."

"He seems better this morning," Noah said. "Not at all like he hates you."

Rachel blushed and glanced down at her plate. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "He was so upset and he's never said that to me before. He even brought up Jason."

"What did he say?"

"He said I was going to leave him just like he did. He's never said anything like that, Noah, he's never mentioned Jason since he left. Part of me thought maybe he had forgotten him altogether."

"He was young, he still might."

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know which would be worse, honestly. Remembering his dad didn't want him or not remembering he ever had one."

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. "How about knowing his mother would do anything for him and would never leave him?"

Rachel smiled gratefully. "I told him that, last night. You were right, he was fine after awhile, just scared. I'm sorry I freaked out on you last night."

He squeezed her hand. "Don't be. This is hard on you too, it has to be. You're allowed to show it."

"I need to be there for him," she said seriously. "He's little and afraid and he doesn't need to see his mother crying or upset all the time. He doesn't need that."

"But you're allowed to show it," he said. "It's ok that you do."

"I know," she said. "It all just kind of hit me last night, how different this is from the last time, how different it feels."

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head slightly. "I'm afraid," she confessed. "I'm afraid I'm going to lose him."

Noah sighed, averting his eyes. "I wish I could tell you that's not going to happen," he said softly. "I'd give anything to be able to promise you both that. But this is a really good hospital and these are really good doctors."

She nodded. "Everyone's doing everything they can for him, I know that. It's just scary. When he was born, I never imagined any of this. When you're laying there holding your child in your arms for the first time, you never think it's going to be like this. It always happens to someone else, you don't think it's going to happen to you. Not your kid."

"But it did."

Rachel nodded. "It did."

"I don't know how you do it," he said quietly. "I think I'd go crazy."

"Who says I haven't?" she joked.

He shook his head. "You haven't. You've been so amazing during all of this, so strong and on top of everything."

"It's not easy," she admitted.

"I can't even imagine."

Rachel shrugged a shoulder. "You do what you have to," she said quietly. "For your child."

He nodded once. "I get that."

"Oh, Noah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up Beth, I really didn't."

"It's ok," he told her. "Really. It was hard at the time, and still is sometimes, but I know it was the right thing. We get pictures every few months and I can see we made the right choice. She's so happy and healthy, she seems to be doing great."

"It was a very selfless thing you and Quinn did," Rachel said.

He nodded once before clearing his throat. "Do you wanna head back?"

When they got back to Christopher's room, Rachel was startled to see her fathers in the hall with Dr. Ingram and Dr. Stevens.

"Dad? Daddy?" Rachel asked, panic in her voice.

"Sweetheart, they have the results of the bone marrow test."

"Is anyone a match?" Rachel asked immediately. "Can anyone donate?"

Dr. Ingram shook her head regrettably. "I'm sorry, no. No one has a strong enough match for a transplant."

Rachel closed her eyes against the tears threatening to fall. "What now?" she asked, her voice thick.

"We wait for a match from the registry," Dr. Stevens said.

Puck shook his head slightly, looking between the two doctors. "That's it? That's all we can do?"

Rachel stifled a sob as Dr. Ingram answered. "I'm afraid so."

The doctors left the family alone and her fathers escorted her down the hall to the family lounge. She ignored the other parents in the room, retreating to a corner, tears flowing freely down her face.

Her fathers sat on either side of her and Noah paced the area in front of her. "I don't know why I'm crying," she said, still unable to stop the tears. "They told us beforehand that we wouldn't be a close enough match."

"It's ok, sweetheart," Daddy soothed. "We'll find a donor."

"My mom could get tested," Noah said, stopping in front of them. "Sarah too. They'd want to help."

"Sarah's only sixteen, Noah," Rachel pointed out, accepting a tissue from her father. "You have to be eighteen to donate."

"Well, my mom could still be tested," he said. "You never know, right?"

Rachel didn't say anything but leaned her head against her father's shoulder and closed her eyes. Daddy put his arm around her and held her as she cried.

33333

Walking out of the hospital that night had been one of the hardest things Puck had ever done. He'd seen Rachel upset before, especially since she'd come back, but he'd never seen her look as defeated as she did that night. He knew she was exhausted and that she wasn't taking care of herself, and he knew that was a factor. But tonight she looked like she had given up all hope.

He couldn't even imagine how difficult this was for her. He had lost a child too, but he knew the circumstances were completely different. He had let Beth go willingly and knew the kind of life she was going to lead when he did so. Rachel was forced to sit here day in and day out and watch her child in pain. And now she knew that there was absolutely nothing she could do for him.

She had fallen asleep against her father's shoulder and they could all tell how much she needed it. The dark circles under her eyes made her look like a zombie at times and the weight she continued to lose was astounding.

He quietly told her dads that he was going to leave, popping back into Christopher's room briefly to say goodbye to the little boy. He was sleeping, the steady rise and fall of his chest sending a little pain through Puck's heart. This little boy, this beautiful little spitfire did not deserve this. He was so innocent, so pure and wonderful that Puck wondered how this could have happened, what mistake had been made for this to be happening.

He considered himself a believer in spiritual things, God, heaven, the like, but standing here looking at this sick little boy who couldn't possibly have done anything to deserve this, Puck couldn't help but wonder what the plan was, what was in store for them all.

He sat in the parking garage for twenty minutes, trying to get himself under control enough to drive home. It was a mistake, he knew, getting this close to Rachel and her son. A part of him knew, even now, that the little boy probably was not going to make it. He hoped with everything he had that he was wrong.

He knew that logically he should have walked away that first night, the first time he had seen that bald little head. The first time Rachel told him Christopher was sick. She had warned him, had tried to protect him from this, this paralyzing pain in his chest.

As much as he knew he should have, he didn't regret anything about what he'd done regarding Rachel and Christopher. Rachel was easy to love, she always had been. He had never understood in high school how people could be so cruel to her. Yeah, she was crazy and driven and ambitious and always perfect and it drove people fucking nuts. But she was kind and caring and always there if someone needed her, no matter who it was or what they had done to her in the past. She had the biggest heart of anyone he'd ever met. And her little boy was no different. The child had captivated him from the moment he'd first extended his hand to him. He didn't regret getting close to them for a single moment. He didn't regret loving them.

He sighed, running a hand over his head. He had told Rachel weeks ago that he wasn't doing this with some ulterior motive, and he hadn't lied to her. He hadn't set out to fall in love with her or her son, it had just happened. Although, if he was honest with himself, he's pretty sure he's been in love with her for a long time now, at least a little bit.

He had only wanted to protect her, to show her the support she'd always shown everyone else. And when he'd heard about that bastard Jason…he still couldn't believe how anyone could willingly walk away from those two pairs of chocolate brown eyes and not spend every day of their life regretting it.

He was coming back tomorrow and he still regretted walking away tonight.

He sighed again, leaning his head back against the seat. His mom would come up tomorrow, he knew, and be tested immediately. She loved Rachel, always had. And to find out Rachel had a sick son…he figured nothing in the world would be able to keep his mother away once she found that out.

There were others, he knew, who would be the same way, but they didn't know. None of them knew and Puck thought maybe that was the problem. He knew there was a chance Rachel would hate him for what he was about to do, but if it saved her son, he figured she'd forgive him someday.

Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed a familiar number.

"Dude, where the fuck have you been?" was the greeting he received. "We thought you were dead or something."

Puck cleared his throat. "I need your help with something," he said, voice thick with emotion.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Rachel sent her fathers home that night, despite their reluctance to leave her. She assured them that she was fine, that she had just needed some rest. They didn't want to leave, she knew that, but Daddy had patients and she knew Dad had some work to do as well.

Daddy had brought up her laptop and she sat in the family lounge late that night, doing research on bone marrow transplants. She googled everything she could possibly think of related to the procedure and by the time her eyes finally started drooping closed around 3:00, she had caught herself up on the procedures and complications.

Her sleep wasn't restful that night, the chair awkward and not really conducive to sleeping. But she was able to get a few more hours in and by the time she woke up at 7:00, she felt a little bit more rested than she had yesterday.

She immediately garbed up and entered her son's room. He was still sleeping and she took her spot beside his bed, watching him. His chest rose and fell rhythmically and his face was the picture of innocence. Her little man.

He was still sleeping when the door opened slightly and a blue-clad figure stepped in. Noah.

"Morning," he said quietly.

"Good morning. I thought you had to work today."

He shrugged a shoulder. "Called in. Can I talk to you?"

"Sure."

"Outside?"

She gazed at him in confusion but followed him out into the hallway. "Noah, what is it?" she asked, reaching up to remove her face covering.

He removed his as well. "Don't be mad."

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "What did you do?"

"Nothing bad," he assured her. "At least, I don't think so."

She put her hands on her hips and stared him down. "Noah Puckerman, what did you do?"

He took her hand and led her down the hallway to the family lounge. Seated on the couch was his mother. And beside her sat a serious looking Finn and Quinn.

She turned back to Noah. "You told them?"

"Yes."

"Noah, why would you do that?"

"They're here to be tested," he said softly.

She blinked. "Tested?"

"Yes."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Really?"

He nodded, still unsure if he was in trouble or not. "They're, uh, all coming to be tested."

"All?"

"The gleeks. Called them. They're all coming."

She pursed her lips but a few tears slipped out anyway. "Noah," she whispered.

He pulled her to him as she cried. "I know you never told anyone, but I figured it was worth a shot. Maybe one of them can help, you know?"

"I don't know how to thank you," she whispered, choking out a small sob.

"Don't thank me yet. Let's just see if it works."

Finn and Quinn approached them hesitantly. "Rach," Quinn said quietly.

Rachel pulled away from Noah and gave the blonde a small smile. "Quinn. Finn. It's good to see you."

Quinn pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "We'll do whatever we can, however we can help."

Rachel was unable to talk over the lump that had formed in her throat but she squeezed the blonde, hoping that conveyed her thanks. Quinn squeezed her back and Rachel thought maybe she'd understood.

She hugged Finn as well as Nora Puckerman. "Thank you all for coming," she said, swiping at her eyes. "I can't ever thank you enough."

"Let's just see what we can do, dear," Nora said kindly. "How do we go about getting some blood drawn around this place?"

Rachel laughed and took them down to the nurses' desk, explaining to Debbie that they wanted to be tested as donors for Christopher. The nurse's face lit up as Puck explained how many more people were coming to be tested as well.

"That's wonderful!" the nurse exclaimed. "Let's hope one of you is a good match for him."

She took the three down to the lab and Rachel and Puck were left alone. "Noah, thank you," Rachel breathed. "So much."

"Seriously, stop thanking me until it works," he said. "This whole thing might have been pointless."

"But there are so many possibilities," she mused. "They're really all coming?"

He nodded once. "Yep. Kurt and Mercedes are flying in from New York, Tina from Boston, Matt and Mike from Chicago. Brittany sounded really confused but Santana assured me they would catch a flight out of Miami as soon as they could. Tina said she'd get a hold of Artie and let him know as well. His phone was busy every time I tried."

Rachel shook her head in amazement. "I just can't believe they're all coming."

"Believe it, babe," Noah grinned. "And they're kinda pissed at you, just to let you know."

"What? Why?"

"Because you never said anything sooner," he told her. "Mercedes said they would have kept you company in New York if you had said something."

"That's why I didn't say anything," Rachel pointed out. "Sitting around in hospitals is depressing and exhausting. No one needs to do that if they don't have to."

"Sometimes people just want to be there for someone," he said softly. "Sometimes people just want to help."

"There's nothing anyone can do, unless they can give him marrow," Rachel said.

"Well, we're gonna find out, babe. We're gonna find out."

33333

Testing on Finn, Quinn and Nora went quickly. Nora left to go back to work in Lima, and Rachel took Quinn and Finn to meet her son. She and Puck helped them into the gowns and various coverings and Rachel felt her heart flutter nervously in her chest as she pushed the door open. This was it, this was the moment they'd get to meet her son. She realized she was nervous, not for herself, but for her son. Would they accept him? Would they look down on him or judge him for being sick? She didn't know.

Christopher was awake and watching cartoons when they came in. He smiled at her from the bed and she couldn't help but notice that it wasn't as bright as it should be.

She placed a gloved hand to his cheek, sorry she couldn't touch him skin to skin. "How are you feeling this morning, Bug?"

"Did you bring the bike?" he asked, looking up at her lazily.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Bike?" She glanced back at Noah. "Bike?" He shook his head, gazing at Christopher in concern.

"Mommy, who's that?" Christopher pointed a finger at Quinn and Finn.

"These are friends of Mommy and Noah," she told him. "This is Quinn," she pulled the blonde forward, "and Finn."

"They were in glee club with us too, buddy," Noah said from the other side of the bed.

"Did they sing _Sweet Caroline_ too?" he asked.

Quinn smiled at the little boy. "Nope, that was a song Noah sang just for your mom."

"Your names rhyme," Christopher said. "Mommy, can we go to the playroom today?"

"Sweetheart, we can't go to the playroom anymore, remember? We talked about this. There are germs in there that can make you very sick."

"I want to watch Sponge Bob," he said. "Noah, can you find Sponge Bob?"

"Uh, sure, buddy," Noah said, exchanging a glance with Rachel.

She studied her son closely. His skin had a pale tinge to it and his eyes looked a little droopy, but he seemed ok. She stepped closer, hand reaching out to touch his shoulder when he shuddered and vomited all over her and himself. She sighed and hit the call button.

It took Debbie a little longer to come in because she had to gown up. Noah had moved Quinn and Finn to the back of the room and Rachel and Debbie moved Christopher quickly to the bathroom. He was crying and clutching at Rachel.

"Mommy, they're coming," he sobbed. "Don't let them take me."

"Who's coming, sweetheart?" she asked as she and Debbie showered him off.

"Mommy," he cried over and over.

Debbie narrowed her eyes. "Has he been like this?"

"Since he woke up. He seemed confused. He asked me if I brought the bike."

"I'm going to get his temp when we get him back into bed," the nurse told her.

Christopher registered a slightly elevated temperature and his doctors were paged immediately. "We're giving him antibiotics," Dr. Stevens told Rachel. "An elevated temperature is the first sign of infection and we're not taking any chances."

"He just started the drugs," Rachel pointed out. "How could he get sick so quickly?"

"It could have happened for two reasons," Dr. Ingram told her. "He could have already had the bug in his system or his immune system could be so weak it didn't take many drugs to suppress it."

"But you can fight it?" Noah asked, placing his hand on Rachel's shoulder.

"Yes. That's why we started antibiotics immediately. We want to treat it at the first sign, before it gets stronger than his immune system."

"We also wanted to let you know that we got the test results," Dr. Stevens said. "There are no strong matches."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing as strong as we'd like," the doctor told her. "We can use Quinn as a donor if we can't find anyone else, but we'd like to see a stronger match for him."

"Me?" Quinn said, stepping forward. "I was a match?"

"A weak one," Dr. Ingram said with a nod. "But we believe we can find a stronger one, either in the donor registry or among your friends. But if worst comes to worst and we can't, Quinn is the closest."

"What would happen with a weak match?" Rachel asked.

"It may not prove to be much help," Dr. Ingram said sadly. "A strong match gives him a 50-50 chance. A weaker match would lessen the odds and prolong the recovery time. We'd have to keep treating with strong doses of chemo, stronger than we'd use if the marrow were a good match. It's harder on his system, especially after his immune system has been suppressed."

"If you need it, take it," Quinn said firmly.

"If it comes to that, we will let you know," Dr. Stevens said. "For now, let's just check out all of our options. If you have any more questions, Rachel, please page us."

The doctors moved into an elevator and were gone. Finn glanced down at Rachel's vomit-covered gown. "Maybe you should get cleaned up."

"Rachel, there's a shower in the nurses' lounge you can use," Debbie said. "We don't want anyone using the bathroom in Christopher's room anymore."

Rachel nodded. "Thank you," she said. "How fast do you think the antibiotics will kick in?"

"It depends on how long the virus has been in his system, how ingrained it is," Debbie explained. "But if I had to guess, I'd say soon. He was fine last night and he didn't have any symptoms until this morning. I would say a short recovery."

Rachel nodded, thanking the nurse before turning back to her friends. "I'm going to go take a quick shower," she told them.

"Take your time, we'll be here," Puck assured her.

They waited until she walked away before Finn turned to Quinn. "You know finals are coming up, right?"

Puck glared at Quinn. "Look, if you're serious about this, great. If not, then tell her now, don't jerk her around on this. She can't take that."

Quinn shook her head. "No. I fully intend to follow through on this if it will help him."

"And finals?"

"Screw finals," she said definitively. "I'll take make-ups, talk to my professors, whatever. This is more important."

Puck's gaze softened. "Thank you," he said softly.

They walked down the hall and took seats in the family lounge. "She's really having a hard time with this, isn't she?" Quinn asked.

Puck nodded. "She's trying really hard to be strong but she's scared. She keeps saying this is different than last time and she's afraid."

"Why didn't she ever say anything?" Finn wondered. "I mean, no one even knew she had a kid."

"She said she kept in touch with Kurt and Tina and never told them," Puck explained. "I think it was easier. She didn't have to deal with anyone else on it, she just got to focus on Christopher and getting him better."

"I get that," Quinn mused. "Think about it. She's Rachel Berry. She was always _on_ in high school, never really let anyone see her vulnerable. She told me once, right before we graduated, that her mantra had always been 'Never let them see you cry.' She was always so composed, so unflappable."

"She didn't want anyone feeling sorry for her or putting their lives on hold for her," Puck told them. "She said that's why she never told Tina or Kurt."

"There's a difference between people feeling sorry for you and people wanting to be there for you," Finn said.

Puck nodded. "I think she's starting to see that."

"I'm glad she's here," Quinn said. "And I'm glad she has you."

"Me too. I'm glad she lets me be here." Puck shook his head angrily. "I get so pissed every time I think about her sitting in some hospital in New York, by herself."

"I can't believe Christopher's father just ditched them," Finn said seriously. "Who the fuck does that?"

"Mine did," Puck reminded him.

"You weren't sick," Quinn said. "I don't understand how you can have a child, love them and raise them for two years and just walk away because they're sick. I couldn't live with myself."

"Me either," Puck agreed. "I just don't get it."

"Don't get what?" Rachel asked, rejoining the group. She had changed into a pair of yoga pants and a hooded sweatshirt. Her hair was wet and pulled back into a ponytail.

"Socks with sandals," Quinn said smoothly. "Why would anyone ever think they look good?"

Rachel shook her head. "Beats me."

"Have you eaten yet?" Puck asked her.

She shook her head. "No. I'm not that hungry."

"You should probably eat something," Finn told her. "You're like really skinny now. And I know girls like that but you're almost too skinny."

She wrinkled her nose. "I really don't think I could stomach more hospital food right now."

"Why don't we run out and get something?" Puck asked.

"No, I don't want to leave him."

"He's sleeping now," Puck said. "There's a lot of different places close to the hospital, we won't go far away."

"I think we should, Rach," Quinn put in. "It'll do you some good, getting out of the hospital for a little while. We won't be gone long."

She cast a glance back at her son's door, hesitating. "Ok," she consented. "I guess we could. Let me just find Debbie and let her know."

"Right behind you," the nurse said. She was clad in her clean suit. "I was just getting ready to go check on him. If you want to leave your cell phone number at the desk, I'll call you if something happens."

"Yes, thank you," Rachel said gratefully.

"I know how you worry about him," Debbie told her. "You need to get out, get some fresh air. It'll be good for you. And then you can come back and breathe our recycled air again."

Rachel smiled and jotted her number down on a piece of scrap paper. "Noah, I'm going to leave yours too just in case they can't get a hold of me."

He nodded. "That's fine."

They all headed down to Puck's car. He opened the passenger door for Rachel before rounding the car to the driver's side. He ignored the looks he got from Quinn and Finn.

They picked a restaurant not far from the hospital and Rachel pulled her cell phone out immediately, setting it on the table before making Puck do the same. "I don't want to miss a call from the hospital because I can't hear it ringing," she said.

They talked while they waited for their food, Quinn and Finn catching Rachel up on their lives and asking her questions about New York. When their food came, they ate silently, enjoying the meal. He watched Rachel subtly and was glad she was actually eating her meal and not just shuffling it around her plate, which is what she usually did in the hospital cafeteria.

The place was crowded and after they finished, they had to wait on the waitress to bring the bill. Rachel shifted beside him in the booth and kept glancing at the clock on her phone. He knew she was anxious to get back. When the waitress finally brought the check, he reached for it but Finn was quicker.

"I got it," the taller boy said.

"No, it's ok, I was gonna get it," Puck said. "My suggestion we all go out, after all."

Finn waved him off. "Don't worry about it, man."

"Finn, really, you don't have to," Rachel said.

"Yeah, man, listen to Rachel," Puck said.

"Well, Noah, I was going to tell you the same thing. I am more than capable of paying for my own meal."

"Rachel, shut up," Puck and Finn said simultaneously.

She blinked. "Ok."

The waitress came back for the bill and Finn pressed his credit card into it before Puck could protest. "Next one's on me," Puck said.

Finn grinned. "Definitely."

"Thank you, Finn," Rachel said. "You didn't have to pay for all of us, but I appreciate the gesture."

Rachel's cell phone rang on the table in front of her and she froze, staring at it before picking it up quickly. "Hello? What? Is he ok?" They waited anxiously as she listened to the person on the other end. "We're on our way back now. Thanks."

She hung up the phone, throwing it into her purse. "We have to go. Now."

"What's wrong?" Puck asked. She scooted toward him, trying to make him leave the booth. He touched her arm lightly. "Rach? What's wrong? What happened?"

"His fever got higher, they moved him to Intensive Care. We need to go. Now," she repeated, her voice an octave higher.

Quinn pushed Finn out of the booth. "Go find the waitress, sign the damn slip and let's go." He ran off and Rachel exhaled shakily. "We'll hurry, Rach," Quinn said.

Rachel nodded absently and Puck knew she'd never be leaving the hospital again as long as Christopher was there. He felt more than a little guilty about that.

Finn came back, credit card in hand. "Let's go," he said seriously. They ran to the car and Puck pulled up directly in front of the hospital.

"Go," he told them. "I'll park the car and meet you inside."

Rachel scrambled out and Finn and Quinn were right behind her, the blonde grasping her arm tightly. Puck pulled the car around sharply and headed down to the parking garage, heart pounding rapidly.

He found the Intensive Care Unit easily once he re-entered the hospital. Rachel was standing with Finn and Quinn beside a large desk, talking to Dr. Ingram.

The doctor nodded at him as he came up to the group but continued her conversation with Rachel. "It's a serious infection," she told her. "We're giving stronger antibiotics and monitoring him closely. We have him on a heart monitor and a machine that monitors the oxygen level in his blood."

"Can I see him?" Rachel asked softly.

Dr. Ingram nodded. "Of course, but just you for now. Follow me."

Rachel turned to her friends. "I'm going to go sit with him," she said.

Puck reached out and took one of her hands. "I'm so sorry," he told her. "Hang in there."

She nodded, dropping his hand as she followed the doctor down the hall to her son's room.

Puck dropped into a chair. "Fuck."

"It's not your fault," Quinn said softly.

"How do you figure that? It was my idea, wasn't it?"

"We all supported it," Quinn said firmly. "And this would have happened whether she was here or not."

"She'll never leave him again," he said. "She hasn't been taking care of herself as it is and she's going to be ten times worse at it now."

"We'll watch her," Finn said. "We'll make sure she takes care of herself. She has to."

"Puck!"

He turned at the voice to find Tina, Kurt and Mercedes hurrying down the hallway toward the group. "You guys made it."

"We went upstairs," Tina said, slightly out of breath. "One of the nurses said he was brought down here. What happened?"

"We don't really know," Puck admitted. "He had a fever this morning and they gave him antibiotics but they said it got worse and they moved him down here."

"They said he was really incoherent, not making sense," Quinn told them. "They're concerned that the infection is serious."

"Rachel's with him now?" Kurt asked. They nodded. "Good," he said.

"Did you guys get tested yet?" Finn asked.

"No, we came right down here when they told us," Mercedes said, taking a seat beside her friends. "Man, I can't believe Diva has a kid and never told us."

"How is she doing?" Tina asked.

"She's scared," Puck said truthfully. "Really scared but she's trying to hold it together."

"Did you expect anything else?" a voice said from behind the group. They turned to find a grim looking Matt and Mike. "Seriously, it's Rachel," Mike continued. "She's not just gonna fall apart."

Puck stood up to greet his friends. "Thanks for coming," he said quietly.

"Wouldn't be anywhere else, man," Matt said simply. "We're a family, remember?"

"She'll be glad to see you guys," he said. "She's in with Christopher right now."

Matt nodded. "That's cool. We'll help any way we can."

"Artie should be here this evening," Tina said. "He had problems getting a flight but his dad's going to pick him up at Hopkins Airport and bring him straight here."

"How will he get home?" Finn asked.

Tina shrugged. "He said he'd figure it out later."

As he watched his friends chatting quietly, some about Rachel and her son, some about their lives, Puck felt a surge of pride and happiness that all of these people showed up for Rachel. They may not always have been the closest group, but they were there for each other when it mattered.

He glanced curiously down the hallway in the direction Rachel had gone. He glanced back at his friends, but they were engrossed in their own conversations. He wandered down the hall a little ways.

He wasn't looking for Christopher's room, not really, he was just feeling restless and needed to move around. But when he got to the end of the hall, before the corridor turned, he saw Rachel through a window. She was sitting in a chair pulled up beside a large bed. Stepping closer, he saw Christopher. The little boy was sleeping. He was hooked up to so many machines and had an oxygen mask over his face.

Rachel glanced up just then and his heart clenched at the sight of her red eyes. She turned back to her son, pressing a kiss to his forehead before exiting the room, closing the door softly behind her.

He opened his arms and she came to him immediately, crying softly against him. He held her tight, resting his chin on the top of her head. Her hair was still damp against his skin.

He held her in the hallway for a long time, doctors and nurses giving them sympathetic looks as they passed. He knew what it looked like: two parents comforting each other over their sick child. That's how it should be.

She pulled away and he produced a pocket sized pack of tissues from his pocket for her. She wiped her tears and he waited patiently as she composed herself.

"I'm sorry," she said hoarsely. "I didn't mean to cry all over you."

"No big deal," he told her. "How's Christopher?"

She shook her head slightly. "He's very sick. The infection is serious and it's impacting his kidneys. They stopped the drugs to suppress his immune system and they're giving him medication to fight the infection but the chemo's made him weak and they don't know how much good it will do."

Puck gaped at her. "Are you saying…are they saying…there's nothing they can do?"

"Not yet," Rachel admitted. "They're still trying to be optimistic. But I'm reading between the lines."

"The doctors are still optimistic, which means you should be," Puck told her firmly. "That's _your_ little boy in there, which means he's stubborn and he's a fighter. Don't stop hoping yet, Rach."

She shook her head again. "I'm not. I never will. I'm just telling you how sick he is right now."

"He's sleeping a lot," he commented, his gaze moving back to the little boy.

"It's the medication," Rachel explained. "The nurses told me that the medicine makes him comfortable so he can rest and his body can fight."

"Almost everyone's here," he told her. "Matt, Mike, Tina, Mercedes and Kurt. Britt and Santana should be here soon and Tina said Artie's flying in tonight."

"I should probably go say hello," she said, her gaze straying back to the still form of her son.

"They can wait," he told her. "They'll understand. You can go back to him if you want, I don't want to keep you."

"Will you come sit with us?" she requested. "You've been here all along, it doesn't feel right making you wait outside with everyone else."

"If that's what you want," he agreed.

She led him back into the hospital room and she perched on the side of Christopher's bed. "Hey, Bug," she said in a low voice. "Noah's here to see you. And Mommy's other friends are all outside, waiting to meet you. So you have to get better real soon, ok? Because everyone's waiting to meet you, baby." She turned back to Puck. "You can talk to him, if you want. The nurses think he can hear us."

Puck stood behind Rachel, a steady hand resting on her shoulder. "Hey, buddy," he said softly. "You need to get better really soon, ok? I don't have anyone to watch Sponge Bob with and I can't make the Patrick voice if you don't make the Sponge Bob voice."

Rachel reached up and laced her fingers with his, blinking away her tears. "I hate seeing him so still," she whispered. "It's so not Christopher."

Puck didn't know what to say so he said nothing. She leaned back against his chest and they watched her son sleep, the rise and fall of his chest, the steady beeping of the heart monitor their only comfort in the moment.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Puck winced as he cracked a stiff muscle in his neck. It popped loudly, making him glance over at Rachel to see if he had woken her up. He hadn't. She was still sitting in a chair pulled up next to Christopher's bed, bent at the waist with her head resting on the bed. He winced, knowing she was going to be sore when she woke up. His gaze turned the Christopher and he started slightly when he realized the little boy was awake and looking around the room.

He got up slowly, approaching the bed. "Hey, buddy," he said softly, not wanting to disturb Rachel.

The little boy reached up and pulled the oxygen mask aside. "Noah."

Puck smiled down at the little boy. "Yeah. How are you feeling, Christopher?"

"I saw them," Christopher said hoarsely. "They want me to go with them."

Puck looked at him in confusion. "Who wants you to go with them?"

"The angels," Christopher said seriously, his voice little more than a whisper. "They want me to go with them."

Puck swallowed over the sudden lump in his throat. "Why do they want you to go with them?"

"I don't know. But I can't go."

"Why's that?"

Christopher looked him dead in the eye. "Because I have to take care of Mommy," he said. "If I go with them, who will take care of Mommy?"

Puck blinked back the moisture that sprung to his eyes. "Your mom needs you," he said hoarsely.

"Will you take care of her, Noah?" Christopher asked, looking over at his mom. "If I go with the angels, will you take care of Mommy?"

Puck looked at the little boy, not sure what to say. He couldn't even believe he was having this conversation. "Yeah, buddy, I will. I'll take care of her. But you need to stick around, ok? Because there is no one she wants to take care of her more than you."

"I'm tired, Noah," Christopher said weakly.

Puck went cold all over and for the first time he thought that maybe this wasn't all going to end up so well. "It's ok," he soothed. "Just rest. Your mom's here and I'm here. Just rest."

Christopher's eyes were closed before he even finished his sentence.

33333

The first thing Rachel was aware of when she woke up was that her neck was so stiff she couldn't move it very much. She sat up slowly, smothering a groan when the muscles in her back cracked in protest.

She saw Noah dozing in a chair on the other side of the bed and she remembered the events earlier in the day. She put a cool hand to her son's forehead, frowning when she realized he was still warm. Her eyes flew to the monitor, but aside from the steady blip of the heat monitor, she didn't really know what any of it meant.

She stood up slowly, arching her back to stretch. She rolled her neck from side to side, trying to loosen the muscles there. She jumped when someone tapped on the door and she smiled slightly when she saw her fathers standing in the hallway.

She closed the door softly behind her as she joined them. They engulfed her immediately, sandwiching her between them and she had never felt so safe or warm in her life. She clung to them and they let her.

When she finally untangled herself she saw that they both looked exhausted and she wondered how long they had been here.

"How is he, sweetheart?" Daddy asked in a quiet voice.

"He still has a fever," Rachel said. "He's sleeping a lot. The doctor said his kidneys are being affected and they're giving him large doses of antibiotics to fight the infection."

"He's a fighter," Dad said. "He gets that from you."

Rachel gave them a watery smile. "I don't know what to do," she confessed. "I don't know how to help him. I'm his mother, I'm supposed to be able to help him."

Daddy gathered her close to him again. "I know it's hard, honey," he whispered. "I know."

"You should eat," Dad said, smoothing his hand over her hair like he used to when she was little. "Just a little something."

She shook her head. "I'm really not hungry."

"Some coffee then," Dad decided.

"Coffee would be nice," Rachel relented. "For Noah, too."

"We'll take care of it, sweetheart," Dad assured her.

"Has everyone gone home?" she asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "When did you guys get here?"

"A little while ago," Daddy said. "And everyone's still here."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yes. All of your glee club members and Will and Emma are here as well. No one's going anywhere, honey."

She sighed, closing her eyes and leaning against him. "I feel so bad," she said. "They came here to get tested for a bone marrow transplant and they have to stay. This is why I didn't tell anyone. I don't want anyone feeling obligated."

Her dads exchanged a look and Dad held out his hand. "Come on," he said.

She looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"Come with me. I want to show you something"

She shook her head. "No, I need to stay with Christopher, in case something happens."

"I'll stay with him," Daddy said easily. "I'll come running if anything happens. And Noah's here too. Go with Dad, honey."

She stared at her son for a long time before nodding. "Ok," she said quietly. "But come get me the minute something happens. If he wakes up, if something goes wrong, anything."

Daddy nodded. "Of course, sweetheart. Of course."

She took Dad's hand and he led her down the hall, past the nurses' station. A tired looking nurse was sitting at the desk and she smiled sympathetically at Rachel as she passed. Rachel glanced down at her rumpled clothing, ran a hand through her messy hair. She could just imagine what she looked like.

Dad led her into the waiting room and she was surprised to see he was right: the entire glee club was there, as well as Will and Emma.

Tina saw her first. "Rachel!" she cried, running over to embrace her friend.

Rachel leaned into the embrace as her father stepped away. "Hey, Tina." Suddenly she found herself surrounded by warm bodies, arms holding her tightly. She closed her eyes against the sudden tears. "Thanks for coming," she said thickly.

"Where else would we be?" she heard Mike say behind her.

Her face crumbled and she was glad no one could see her. "Thank you," she whispered brokenly. Arms squeezed her tighter and she choked out a laugh. "I need to breathe," she joked. She was released suddenly and they all looked at her unsurely.

"You look like hell, Berry," Santana commented dryly. Rachel had long since learned the Latina didn't really have any other tone.

She ran a hand through her hair again. "Just what every girl wants to hear," she joked.

Kurt pulled her toward a chair and all but shoved her into it. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"Honestly?" She shrugged. "Been better."

Finn held out a cup of steaming coffee for her. "How's Christopher?"

"Sleeping, mostly. I need to talk to his doctor, I was sleeping too."

"I'll see if I can round him up," Dad said. "I'll be right back, sweetheart."

"Where's Puck?" Emma asked.

"He and Daddy are in with Christopher," she explained. "He was sleeping when I left and I didn't want to wake him."

"He's really good with him, isn't he?" Mercedes asked softly.

"Yeah, he's been really good to us," Rachel said with a small smile.

"And Christopher is the sweetest little boy," Quinn said. "He looks just like Rachel."

"I can't believe you kept this a secret all these years, Rachel," Kurt said. "What were you thinking?"

She shrugged, not meeting their eyes. "It was hard," she said quietly. "I wanted to focus on him and I didn't want anyone feeling sorry for us."

"I get that," Artie said quietly. "I really do. But we never got to know him and we really want to."

"I did what I thought was best," she said, refusing to apologize for her actions.

"And that's fine," Will said from behind Artie. "But they're here now and Christopher's here."

"What do you say, Rachel?" Matt said. "Can we meet your son?"

Rachel opened her mouth to answer but was cut off by her father's voice. "Rachel," Daddy said breathlessly, and her heart stopped. "Rachel, he's awake and he's asking for you."

She stood instantly, taking two steps before turning back to the group. "Let's go see Christopher," she said to them.

She led them into the room two at a time. Brittany and Santana were right behind her so she brought them in first. Puck looked at her in confusion but said nothing.

She pressed a kiss to her son's forehead, and she thought his fever might be coming down. "Christopher Bug," she said with a smile. "There are some people here to see you." She introduced the two former Cheerios and Christopher was delighted when Brittany pulled a teddy bear out of her bag.

"This is for you," she said. "His name is Francis."

Christopher cuddled the stuffed animal. "Francis?"

"Christopher," Rachel prodded gently.

"Thank you," the little boy said politely. "Francis?" he asked, after a beat.

After the Cheerios it was Matt and Mike, then Tina and Artie, Kurt and Mercedes, Finn and Quinn, and finally, Will and Emma.

"Uncle Will," Christopher said happily.

Will smiled down at his godson. "Hey, kiddo. That's a nice teddy bear you got there."

"His name is Francis," Christopher said simply.

"Francis, huh?" Will scratched his head lightly. "That's a good name."

Rachel watched them chat with a small smile on her face and Puck came up next to her, settling an arm around her shoulders. "He seems better."

Puck nodded lightly, still thinking of his conversation with the little boy earlier. "Yeah, maybe a little," he said cautiously. "I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick, but I'll be right back, ok?"

She nodded. "That's fine."

Dad poked his head in the door. "Rach? Dr. Stevens is here if you'd like to speak with him."

Puck held the door for her and followed her to stand in front of the doctor. He nodded at them. "Rachel, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Dr. Stevens, how's Christopher?" she asked.

The doctor looked at her, regret evident on his face. "We're not having a lot of progress with the infection," he told her.

She frowned at him. "But I thought his fever was down, it feels down."

Dr. Stevens glanced at the chart in his hands. "They took his temp right before he woke up and it's actually a little higher than before," he informed her.

"So what do we do now?" Rachel asked. "Up the antibiotics? Use Quinn and do the transplant? What?"

"He's too weak for the transplant," Dr. Stevens said quietly. "His body would be unable to sustain the rest of the immunosupressants. And we're already giving him a heavy dose of antibiotics."

"So what can we do?" she asked again, a hint of panic in her voice.

"Not much more, I'm afraid," he said, looking at her sympathetically. "We're going to keep him on the antibiotics, maybe they'll kick in a little harder. But…well, there's not much more we can do other than make him comfortable."

Rachel blinked owlishly at him. "What are you saying?" she asked slowly.

"I'm saying that you should spend as much time with him as you can, while you can," the doctor said kindly.

"Wait, I don't understand," Puck interjected, taking in Rachel's devastated face. "It's a fever. He's awake and he's talking. And you're saying…what are you saying?"

"The infection is impacting his kidneys," Dr. Stevens explained patiently. "It's impacted his ability to produce urine, which means the kidneys have been affected. And if the kidneys are affected, his other organs will be as well, especially since the antibiotics aren't working as well as we'd hoped."

"So what does that mean?"

"His organs will start shutting down, one by one. The kidneys have already started."

"So fix it."

"They can't," Rachel snapped. "They can't fix anything."

Her dad stepped forward. "Sweetheart-"

"No, Dad, do you hear what he's saying? He's giving up. He's _quitting!_ On my son! This is supposed to be one of the best hospitals in the country and he's giving up!" Her voice got progressively louder until she was actively yelling and he saw the rest of the glee club wander into the hall behind the doctor, eyes wide.

"We're not giving up," Dr. Stevens said firmly. "We will continue to administer antibiotics, but I want you to be prepared. He can bounce back from this but he is very weak. His body simply may not be able to fight any more."

"Stop telling me what he can't fucking do," she snapped. "Tell me something good, something _useful_."

"If the antibiotics kick in, his kidneys may recover," Dr. Stevens said. Puck was amazed the man was as calm as he was. He had never heard Rachel swear, ever, in the entire time he'd known her, had never seen her so angry, but the doctor took it all in stride.

"What else?"

Dr. Stevens exchanged a look with her father. "Rachel, you need to prepare yourself," he said softly. "If the antibiotics don't work, Christopher will continue to get worse. He will get weaker and experience more pain as his body continues to shut down. You may want to start thinking about your options."

Rachel glared at the doctor and said nothing. "What options?" Puck asked carefully.

"We can make him comfortable with pain medication when the time comes," Dr. Stevens said. "Eventually breathing will become difficult, then impossible on his own. We can put him on a ventilator or continue the medication to keep him comfortable."

"What can the ventilator give us?" Rachel's Dad asked.

"Time, mostly," the doctor admitted. "Most patients with Christopher's illness don't come off the ventilator on their own after we've put them on it."

"Meaning what?"

"A decision has to be made to let them go and remove the ventilator. Most patients in Christopher's condition never breathe on their own again, they don't recover, even after the ventilator."

"So we let him slip away or we prolong his suffering?" he asked.

"Basically, yes. But, as I said, we can give him medication, make him comfortable so he's not as in as much pain," Dr. Stevens said.

"You just can't make him better," Rachel said bitterly.

"Rachel, we're doing everything we can for your son," he assured her. "And we will continue to do so. I just want you to be prepared for all possible scenarios here."

She nodded coldly. "I'm going back to my son," she said, stepping around them all, ignoring the looks of her friends as she passed them and shut herself in her son's room.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Puck waited about half an hour before walking back down to Christopher's room but the nurse at the desk told him Rachel had requested to be left alone with her son. It hurt a little when she said that, but he understood and walked reluctantly back to the waiting room to sit with the rest of their friends.

Quinn glanced at him when he came back. "I thought you were going to sit with her," she said.

"She told the nurse she wants to be alone with him."

Quinn's eyes filled with tears. "I can't believe this," she murmured. "It's not right."

"She's angry," Emma said softly. "She's allowed to be, she's losing her son."

"She doesn't accept that," Richard said sadly. "I'm afraid she won't until she's forced to."

"Rachel's a smart girl," the guidance counselor said. "She just needs some time to process. It's a lot to deal with."

"He went downhill so fast," Puck said, shaking his head.

"Dr. Stevens said children are often like that," her Dad said. "He said they are unpredictable because their systems are so fragile, especially after aggressive medical treatment."

Puck cleared his throat. "He woke up once, last night," he admitted. "We talked. He said he saw the angels and they wanted him to go with them but he couldn't because he had to take care of Rachel." He wasn't surprised when he looked around to find more than one person crying.

"Will she survive this?" Kurt asked, tears flowing freely down his red cheeks.

"Yes," Puck said firmly. "We will get her through this. She'll be ok."

"She's a fighter," Daniel said softly.

"She's a Berry," Richard corrected.

"We'll get her through this," Puck repeated again.

33333

Rachel sat beside Christopher's bed, tears streaming down her face. It couldn't be true. She couldn't be losing him.

But she knew down deep that she was. He was pale now, and very tired. He'd spent most of the last few days sleeping and when he wasn't sleeping, he was too tired to actually do anything.

She hated that it had come to this. She hated this hospital and Dr. Stevens for giving her hope. She hated her fathers for accepting it so easily. She hated Noah for his constant reassurance that everything was going to be fine. She hated everything.

Her son, her baby boy, looked so damn tiny in that hospital bed, chest moving slightly with each breath he took. He slept with an oxygen mask now, and his breath clouded the inside of the plastic mask.

She held his tiny hand in one of hers, feeling the coolness of his skin, the tiny fragile bones. He was her purpose, her life.

She couldn't lose him. She wouldn't make it without him. He had become everything to her from the moment she'd found out about his existence. It was him and her, all the way.

Except now all the way was looking a little shorter than she had anticipated.

She wiped her tears with her free hand, trying to get herself under control. She choked out a sob as she tried to control her breathing.

"Mommy?" The hoarse whisper of her son drew her attention back to him. He was staring at her with wide brown eyes sunken into a pale face.

"Hey, baby," she whispered shakily.

"Why are you crying, Mommy?"

"Mommy's just sorry you're sick, baby." Her voice trembled still and she took a deep breath, calming herself. He didn't need to see her so upset.

"Can Amanda come to my birthday party?"

She looked down at him in confusion. "What?"

"My birthday party. Gonna be five. Can Amanda come? And Katelyn? She played blocks with us in the playroom yesterday, can she come too?"

"Christopher, your birthday's not for another two weeks, sweetheart," Rachel said, her heart breaking, knowing it was likely her son wouldn't make it to his birthday.

"It's gonna be a good party, Mommy," he said sleepily, pulling the oxygen mask back over his face and closing his eyes.

Rachel held it together until she was sure he was sleeping and then burst into the hallway, sobbing loudly, doubled over at the waist.

"Rachel?" Noah sounded alarmed. "Rachel, what happened? What's wrong?"

She launched herself into his arms, her entire body shaking with her sobs. "He's not even five yet," she choked out. "It's not fair!"

He held her to him tightly, not saying anything. He was steady and strong against her, keeping her upright when all she wanted to do was collapse.

"He was talking about his birthday party," she said, after she had calmed a little. She was still burrowed tightly into Noah's chest and when he went to move away, she clung to him and he tightened his arms immediately.

"His birthday party? Why?" His voice was low in her ear and his chest rumbled when he spoke. She felt herself calming more.

"He thought he was in the playroom yesterday," she said. "He wants a birthday party. I don't know that he's going to make it to his birthday," she whispered brokenly.

Noah was quiet for several minutes and she was afraid he wasn't going to answer, but he did. "Let's give him a birthday party," he said.

This time she did pull back. She looked at his face. "What?"

He shrugged a shoulder, keeping his arms around her. "Let's give him a party. It will make him happy, right?"

"Noah, I really don't think he's going to be here in two weeks," she whispered, eyes flooding with tears again.

He rubbed a soothing hand down her arm. "So let's give him one now. I don't think he'll mind it being early."

She looked deep into his hazel eyes as she considered it. "You think?"

"Would it make him happy?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation. "He's been looking forward to his birthday for months."

"Then let's do it," he said. "And no half ass stuff either, we're going all out. I'll get the group on it."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

She shook her head slightly. "For going off earlier. I'm not mad at you but I took it out on you."

"Babe, your son is sick and you had just been told there isn't much they can do," he said, stroking her hair softly. "Don't even be sorry for that, you're allowed to be upset."

"I didn't mean to keep you from him," she whispered. "I know you care about him."

"I do," he agreed. "And I care about you. Don't worry about what everyone else needs or what they think is right. You just worry about you and Christopher. The rest of us will be here when you're ready, I promise."

Rachel let out a short laugh, wiping her eyes again. "I guess Christopher's not the only one who's afraid of being abandoned."

"Never gonna happen, babe," he was quick to assure her. "Only a dumbass would do that, and you know I've always considered myself something of a smartass."

She chuckled, pulling back again to look him in the eye. "Thank you," she said softly. "For me and my son."

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'd do anything for you," he said honestly. "For both of you."

"Noah," she whispered, eyes fluttering shut. They stayed like that for several minutes and Rachel could feel the shift between them, though where they were now she couldn't say for sure.

He was the first to pull away and she saw the reluctance in his face when he did. "I'm gonna go talk to the rest of them, get them started on the party," he said softly, hand caressing her cheek. "I'll send your dads back, ok?"

She nodded. "Thanks."

33333

He waited until she was back with her son before returning to the waiting room with the others. He had gotten restless and was pacing the floor, up and down various hallways, when he'd seen her burst from her son's room, borderline hysterical. He had immediately thought the worst.

She had been so strong this entire time and it had scared him to no end when she broke down. Her whole body was trembling and she had barely been able to form a sentence.

But she'd pulled herself together, for her son and his birthday party, and he couldn't describe what he felt for her in that moment. And then, as he'd pressed his lips to her forehead, her voice when she'd said his name…she sounded as if she knew and she felt the same way. He'd closed his eyes and tried to give her everything he had, everything she needed to get through this.

He hated walking away from her but if they were going to throw Christopher the birthday party he wanted, he knew the others needed to be involved.

They all looked up as he entered the waiting room and Richard came to meet him. "How's she doing?" he asked in a low voice.

Puck shook his head. "Not good. I told her I'd send you two down."

Richard motioned to David and the two of them hurried down the hall to their daughter and grandson.

Puck turned to the rest of the group. "I need your help with something," he told them.

"Anything," Finn said immediately, and everyone nodded.

"We're throwing Christopher a birthday party and we need some stuff."

Quinn blinked once. "A birthday party?" she asked slowly.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Kurt asked.

Puck sighed, running a hand over his head. "Rachel said he woke up and was talking about his birthday party. She said he's been looking forward to it for awhile now. And we're going to give him one."

"When is his birthday?" Tina asked.

"Two weeks."

"Will he make it that long?" Santana asked bluntly.

"Rachel doesn't think so." He was met with silence. "Which is why we're going to get moving on this, now, and throw him an early one.

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked softly.

He nodded. "Rachel thought it was a good idea and she said it would make Christopher happy. And I think it'll be good for her too."

"How do you figure?" Finn asked.

Puck shrugged. "One last memory of seeing her son happy? I think she needs that, something good to hold on to later."

They all stared at him silently, lost in their own thoughts, before Kurt stood up, clapping his hands together once. "Ok, we're going to need decorations. Presents. Music? Is this allowed in the hospital?"

"I'll check with one of the nurses, but I think as long as we don't disturb anyone else and it doesn't interfere with the machines, it should be fine," Puck said.

Kurt nodded. "Ok. We can take our car, we rented a huge one at the airport," he said. "Let's throw a party."

33333

The nursing staff had cleared the party and Puck assured Rachel it would be ready the next morning. She was so grateful to him for everything he was doing for her son, and he told her not to even worry about it, he had everything under control.

She left her fathers with Christopher and took the elevator upstairs to the oncology ward. Debbie was at the desk and came out when she saw her, wrapping her in a huge hug. Rachel closed her eyes and hugged her back.

"How's he doing?" Debbie asked when she pulled away.

Rachel shook her head. "Not good. They say there's not much they can do for him now."

Debbie blinked away tears and Rachel was struck by how much this woman cared for her son. "I'm so sorry to hear that," she said.

Rachel nodded. "I actually came up to see if you were on duty tomorrow morning."

Debbie shook her head. "I have the night shift again tomorrow."

"Oh, ok. We're having an early birthday party for Christopher and he wanted to invite you and Katelyn."

"I'll be there," Debbie said immediately.

"Really?"

"Absolutely. I'll talk to Katelyn, I'm sure she'll want to come too, she's asked me about him several times."

"He wanted to invite Amanda too, but I don't think that's a good idea," Rachel confessed. "I don't want her to see him like that."

Debbie nodded. "I agree. But maybe she can draw him a picture he can hang by his bed. She misses him."

Rachel blinked against the sudden tears, hugging the woman again. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for caring about my son."

33333

Tina told Puck that night that the group had chipped in and gotten a suite at a hotel near the hospital and were going to take turns staying with Rachel through the night. She, Artie and Mike had gotten the first shift and she told Puck he was more than welcome to head back to the hotel with the group. He was going to stay at the hospital but Rachel insisted he go.

"You've been here so long, Noah," she told him. "You've spent so much time up here, you've got to be exhausted. Go, get some rest."

"On one condition," he told her. "You have to rest too. Get some sleep tonight. We've got a big day planned tomorrow."

"You could go back to the hotel too, Rach," Tina said hesitantly. "We'll stay with him."

"No," Rachel said flatly. "Thanks, but I need to be here. I'm not leaving him."

Puck nodded. "I know," he said. "Just get some sleep. A few hours at least. Promise me."

"I promise I'll try," she told him.

He smiled softly at her. "Good enough, I guess."

Tina walked him to the elevator as Rachel talked to the night nurse on duty. "Don't worry," Tina said in a low voice. "We'll make sure she sleeps a little bit."

Puck gave her a grateful look. "Thank you. She needs more sleep than she's been getting. We'll be back here early in the morning to set everything up. We want it all ready to go when he wakes up."

Tina nodded. "We'll be ready. See you in the morning."

Puck took the elevator to the parking garage and found his friends waiting beside Kurt's car. He climbed in the back and they drove to the hotel. The suite was huge and there was plenty of space for them all to sleep. He kicked off his shoes by the front door and sprawled out on the couch, not even bothering to undress. He was out before the rest of the group had decided who was sleeping where.

33333

Rachel sat in the waiting room that night with Artie, Tina and Mike, wishing that she were with Noah instead. She was grateful for her friends' presence, absolutely, but they kept asking her questions about Christopher and she kept finding herself repeating the same things she'd already been over about a hundred times with the rest of the group. Noah knew everything, he didn't ask questions and he just let her be.

She wished he were here with her right now.

But she had sent him back to the hotel with the others to get some sleep and she was glad she had. He was starting to look haggard and worn out. He was here all the time now, every day since they found out that she and her family weren't able to donate bone marrow to her son. It seemed like forever ago.

He had been so good to them, her and Christopher. He was so good with the little boy, a natural with children and he was exactly what she needed most days. He was calming and reassuring, even when he didn't have the words to tell her, the promises she desperately wanted to hear. He just showed up and did whatever she needed and she was so grateful to have someone like that around.

Her dads were great too, and she was lucky to have them, but she knew they were dealing with their own feelings during this whole thing. Christopher was their first grandchild and they were worrying about him just like she was. She knew they were upset that they hadn't spent as much time with him as they'd have liked to over the years. She'd heard Daddy say just a few days ago that he wished they'd have dropped everything and went to New York the first time he was diagnosed.

She knew this was as hard for them as it was for her.

She sighed internally as Tina asked yet another question about Jason. She'd explained that situation as much as she cared to, and she knew Noah had discussed it with everyone as well.

She answered Tina briskly, rising to her feet. "I'm going to go sit with Christopher for a little while, I hope you all don't mind," she said as politely as she could. They all nodded immediately and she walked back down the hall to her son's room. She shut the door behind her, leaning her head back and closing her eyes, reveling in the peaceful environment. She loved the former gleeks, she really did, but sometimes they were entirely too chatty.

She pulled her chair next to her son's bed, taking one of his small hands in hers. His heart machine beeped steadily in the otherwise quiet room. She slumped lower in the chair, closing her eyes. She would sleep for just a little while and then go back out and apologize.

Just for a little while…


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The first thing she noticed when she woke up was the awkward angle of her body and the pain shooting through her neck. She cracked her eyes open hesitantly and saw she was slumped at the waist, bent to lean her head on Christopher's bed. She groaned, sitting up slightly, her hand going to her neck when it cracked loudly.

"Hey, babe, that doesn't look comfortable at all," Noah said.

She moved her eyes to the side and saw him standing with Quinn, Will and Matt. "I don't know why, it's extremely comfortable," she quipped. She sat up a little further and winced when her neck cracked again. "Ow."

He moved behind her and she felt his hands at the base of her neck. "Easy," he cautioned, kneading the sore muscles there.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his warm skin against hers, his gentle touch soothing her. She let out a moan of pleasure and her eyes snapped open in embarrassment. Quinn and Matt were hiding their laughter behind their hands.

"Feel good?" Noah asked from behind her, amusement evident in his voice as well.

"Nope. You suck at this," she told him.

Quinn laughed outright this time. "Ooh, she got you, Puck," she teased.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled good-naturedly. His hands moved down a little to her shoulders and she closed her eyes again, feeling her body relax inch by inch.

"What are you guys doing here?" she asked them lazily. "What time is it?"

"A little after seven," Matt told her. "We couldn't sleep, we wanted to get the decorations up before he woke up."

"We know he's weak," Will explained from across the room. "We want everything to be ready when he wakes up so he can enjoy it."

"We weren't sure how long he's going to be able to stay awake," Quinn continued. "No time wasted decorating. As soon as he wakes up, the party is a go."

Rachel smiled. "He's going to love this," she said quietly. "Thank you for doing it."

"Don't thank us yet," Matt grinned. "Britt and Kurt got really into shopping. This place is going to be overrun with toys and decorations soon."

"You guys didn't have to," she said, sitting up a little straighter. Noah's hands stopped their ministrations and she turned to look at him. He grinned and placed his hands back on her shoulders, fingers resuming their massage.

"The party?" Quinn asked in confusion.

"The presents."

"It's not a birthday without presents," Puck said firmly.

"You could have saved your money, I don't think he's going to be able to enjoy them for very long."

Will came to stand in front of her and looked into her eyes. "So it's definite then?"

Rachel nodded. "Pretty much," she admitted. "He's not getting any better. I spoke with his doctor last night and he said the kidney function is down even more."

"Have you made a decision yet?" Puck asked carefully.

Quinn exchanged confused looks with Will and Matt. "What decision?"

Rachel sighed, moving away from Puck's touch to stand up. "They say when the time comes, he will no longer be able to breathe on his own. They can either give him medication to make him comfortable when that happens or they can put him on a ventilator that will breathe for him."

"What are you going to do?" Quinn asked softly.

Rachel shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea," she admitted.

Will exchanged a quick look with Puck but she caught it. "Did you tell her?" their former teacher asked.

Rachel turned back to Puck. "Tell me what?"

Puck licked his lips nervously. "Uh, a few nights ago, when we were in with Christopher, you'd fallen asleep and Christopher woke up. He said that he'd seen the angels and they wanted him to go with them."

Rachel paled. "What?" she whispered.

"There's more," he cautioned. "He said he couldn't go with them because he had to take care of you and if he went, he didn't know who would take care of you. Then he…he asked me to take care of you if he went with them."

She blinked at the sudden moisture in her eyes and Will put his arms around her. She pulled away a little. "Is that all?" she asked. "Is that all he said?"

Puck nodded, averting his eyes. "He said he was tired. I told him to get some rest because there was no one you wanted to take care of you other than him. He went back to sleep after that."

Rachel sighed and moved around her friends to stand beside her son. She gazed down at his, his pale little face, taut skin, sunken eyes. "I don't think it's going to be long," she said quietly.

The room was silent then, and she knew they didn't know what to say to her. The tension was broken when the rest of the group came bustling into the room, arms full of bags and packages.

"We come with gifts," Kurt announced with a flourish.

"I thought we came in peace," Brittany said evenly.

Rachel giggled then, a small burst of laughter bubbling up out of her. As the others looked at her in worry or confusion, the laughter overtook her and soon she was giggling uncontrollably. She wiped tears of joy from her eyes and laughed even harder when Quinn started giggling with her. Soon she, Quinn, Matt, Will and Puck were all cracking up, leaving the rest of the group baffled and bewildered. They had no idea what they'd just walked in on and the thought made Rachel laugh even harder.

"Oooook," Kurt said, glancing back in confusion at the rest of the newcomers. "We're just gonna start setting this stuff up so if you crazies will just stay out of our way, that would be great."

Quinn laughed so hard she snorted and Rachel leaned against Puck, her face red with mirth. He slung an arm around her waist, laughing as Matt tried to dry his tears as even more ran down his face.

"Ok, losers, go get some coffee or something," Santana snapped, fed up with not being part of the joke.

"And some for Santana since she's clearly not a morning person," Quinn cackled.

Rachel laughed as Puck tugged her out of the room and into the hallway, the giggling trio following close behind them. They collapsed in the waiting room chairs as their laughter died down.

"Dude, San was so about to kill you," Matt sputtered and they were all laughing again.

Santana stuck her head out the doorway, eyes narrowed into slits. "Coffee. Now!" she hissed venomously.

Quinn was on her feet in an instant, pulling Rachel down the hall to the elevator. "She's like the praying mantis, about to eat her mate," she giggled. "And since she's bi, I don't think she'd have a problem eating us too!"

"Ew," Rachel said seriously. Then she giggled again as Matt went into a praying mantis martial arts pose in the elevator and Noah mimicked him, the two boys circling each other as the girls giggled and Will shook his head in amusement.

The cafeteria was pretty deserted at this early hour, a few nurses in scrubs holding steaming cups of coffee in a corner. They all got coffee and Noah handed her a muffin, narrowing his eyes at her when she wrinkled her nose until she finally took it. Will paid for them all, despite their protests, and they took a table on the far side of the room.

"So what's this big day you have planned?" Rachel asked as they nursed their coffee and she picked at her muffin.

"Stop playing with that and eat it," Puck told her. "We have presents, obviously, and a few games that he can do from his bed. We didn't know about cake, but Mercedes talked to one of the nurses and she said Christopher can have a popsicle if he wants it so we got some of those. Nothing fancy but I think he'll like it."

"He'll love it," she told them decisively. "Thank you guys so much."

"Please," Quinn said, tossing her hair over her shoulder in her best bitch impression. "This isn't for you, this is for that beautiful little boy in the fashionable hospital gown."

Rachel grinned. "Well, he thanks you too," she said cheekily.

Quinn grinned back, leaning her head against Rachel's shoulder. "Ok, so maybe it's for you too. A little bit."

Rachel laughed and leaned against her friend. "Gee, thanks."

33333

Everything was ready by eight o'clock, and everyone was crowded into the hospital room, waiting on Christopher to wake up. Rachel's dads were conversing with Will and Emma and the glee kids were mingling around the gift table. Rachel, perched on the edge of her son's bed, saw that they had thoughtfully put the gifts in bags with very little tissue paper so Christopher wouldn't have to exert much effort to open his presents. The decorations hung around the room were bright and colorful, with streamers twisting from one corner to the other. An array of games was laid out on the windowsill.

They had thought of absolutely everything and Rachel knew her little boy was going to love it. Her heart swelled as she took in the efforts of the people around her and she caught Noah's eye across the room. He nodded to her, giving her one of his genuine smiles and she swore she felt her heart stop.

"Mommy?" she heard a groggy little voice say.

The room quieted instantly and she turned her attention to her son. "Hey, Little Man. How are you feeling?"

"Ok," he said hoarsely, and her forehead creased in concern. "What's going on, Mommy?"

Rachel grinned down at the confused look on his little face. "Well, sweetheart, Mommy's friends have something they'd like to tell you."

"Happy birthday!" they all chorused, careful to keep their voices from being too loud.

Christopher's eyes widened and he clapped his little hands. "But it's not my birthday," he said.

"We don't have to tell them that," Rachel whispered conspiratorially in his ear.

Christopher giggled and clapped his hands again. "Yay!"

Puck came forward from the group. "What do you say, buddy? Presents first or games?"

"Presents!"

Rachel laughed and settled back against the pillows next to her son, helping him into a sitting position as Brittany brought him a huge gift bag with a bright green thing sticking out the top.

"This is from me," Brittany said, grinning at the little boy.

Rachel helped him pull the stuffed animal from the bag. It was a giant frog, almost as big as Christopher. Rachel laughed as Christopher squealed. "What's his name?" he asked excitedly.

"You get to name him," Brittany said.

"I name him Brittany," Christopher said proudly.

"That's my name too. It's a good name," the blonde told him, and everyone in the room giggled.

Artie and Tina came forward next with their presents. "This is from me and Tina," Artie said.

Rachel helped Christopher pull the gift from the bag and gasped at what she saw. "Artie, you shouldn't have," she said breathlessly. "Christopher, do you know what this is?" The little boy shook his head, looking up at her. "This is portable DVD player," she explained. "That means you can watch movies right here in bed with this."

"But I don't have any movies here," Christopher said, his face scrunching up at the prospect of not being able to use his new gift.

Tina grinned. "Sure you do," she said, handing him a bag.

Christopher squealed as he emptied the bag, pulling out Barney, Sponge Bob, Scooby Doo and various other cartoons. "Mommy, look!"

Rachel blinked away a few tears at her son's happiness. "I see that, Bug. What do you say?"

"Thank you!" he yelled, reaching his arms out to Tina and Artie. They laughed and hugged him gently.

Matt and Mike got him a Sponge Bob pillow and fleece blanket and Christopher unfolded it immediately, throwing it over his legs and his mother's. Santana got him Candy Land. Will and Emma got him some more videos and Quinn and Finn got him some Sponge Bob pajamas.

Puck brought one more present to Christopher, a small gift bag. Her son took the gift out of the bag and glanced at it in confusion.

"It's an MP3 player," Puck explained. "Already loaded with some songs, including the complete anthology of Billy Joel." He grinned as Christopher bounced excitedly.

"Mommy, I have my own Billy!" the little boy beamed, holding up his new gift.

Rachel smiled, noticing that the electronic device was simple and would be easy for Christopher to use. "I see that, Bug."

"Can we listen to Billy now, Mommy? Please?" he begged.

"Baby, I think they have some more stuff planned for your party."

"We sure do, Christopher," Will said, stepping forward. "We've got a game to play, if you want."

"Yay!" The little boy clapped his hands again.

"We're going to play Pin the Tail on the donkey, but it's going to be a little different," Will explained, holding up a blindfold. "Mike has volunteered to be our donkey and he's going to be blindfolded. He's going to walk around the room and everyone gets to pin the tail on him."

Christopher giggled. "Anywhere we want?"

Will laughed. "Well, we're supposed to put it where the tail goes, but if you want to put it somewhere different, you can."

Rachel watched anxiously, fearing Mike was going to run into the bed or some other machinery. He caught her eye and winked, holding up the blindfold and she realized he must be able to see out of it. She smiled and sat back to watch the game.

Mike made big, exaggerated movements as he circled the room and the adults were equally exaggerated as they tried and purposefully failed to get his tail on. He came close to the bed and Christopher giggled. He reached out and Mike was still just long enough for Rachel to help her son attach the tail to Mike's behind. Christopher giggled when the tail hung down and Mike whirled away. By the time Will called an end to the game, Christopher was the only one who'd gotten a tail to stick to the Asian.

Mike pulled his blindfold off and looked at the tail hanging off. "Oh man," he said in an exaggerated voice. "Who got me?"

Christopher giggled again. "I did," he said.

"Well, Christopher, that means you get a special prize," Will said.

Katelyn and Debbie came forward, leaning down to hug the little boy. Debbie gave him a drawing. "This is from Amanda. She's sad that she couldn't come, but she sent this for you to hang up."

Christopher insisted they hang the drawing up immediately and Quinn produced some scotch tape. Rachel hung it right where Christopher pointed, knowing if she didn't, she'd just have to re-hang it until he was satisfied.

"How's that, Bug?" she asked when she was finished.

Christopher coughed into his hand. "Good, Mommy," he rasped, coughing again. The coughing fit continued and Rachel could hear him wheezing to breathe in between coughs. She approached him in panic as his face began to turn first purple, then blue. One of the machines started beeping rapidly.

The room erupted into a flurry of movement then, with Debbie and Katelyn lowering the rails on the bed and barking orders. Someone hit the call button for the nurses' desk. Debbie and Katelyn lowered Christopher's body into a horizontal position and as soon as his body was stretched out on the bed, he began to shake. Rachel heard someone scream and she moved toward her son, not realizing it had been her. Strong arms restrained her and held her back as she watched Debbie and Katelyn struggle to hold Christopher's body still. His eyes were rolled back in his head and Rachel fought the person holding her back from her son.

"Easy, babe, they know what they're doing," she heard Noah say in her ear. "Let them work." The room filled suddenly with doctors and she was aware of everyone being pushed out. She refused to budge and she was glad Noah didn't try to make her.

It seemed like Christopher's body jerked on the bed for hours, though Rachel knew it was more likely only a few minutes. Finally his body stilled and the doctors stepped back, breathing in relief.

Rachel stepped toward the bed and this time Noah let her, though he walked forward with her, hand still on her back. "What happened?" she asked, hearing the panic in her own voice. "What happened?"

"His oxygen stats dropped, very low," Debbie explained gently. "They've increased the percentage of oxygen flowing through the mask. He had a seizure, but he's doing better now. His stats are almost back to where they should be."

"Will it happen again?" Rachel asked fearfully.

A doctor came over to her. "It might. We're going to keep him on an increased level of oxygen from now on. His lungs are weak. I've paged Dr. Stevens, he should be here soon."

Rachel sighed, dropping into a chair beside the bed. She knew what this meant, what they weren't saying.

Katelyn came over and squeezed her arm gently. "How are you holding up, Mom?"

Rachel exhaled shakily. "Ok. I'm…ok."

"Have you made any decisions yet?"

Rachel's tearful gaze met the nurse's. "No. I just…he's my baby. I don't want to lose him."

"I know that was really scary," the nurse said quietly. "Hopefully upping his oxygen will prevent that from happening again. Is there anything I can get you?"

Rachel shook her head no. "Thank you, though. You've both been so kind. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been here."

"You would have been ok," Katelyn assured her. "The ICU nurses would have taken care of him. We're going to head back upstairs now, but if there's anything you need, please let us know."

Rachel nodded as the two oncology nurses exchanged words with the ICU nurses before leaving. Noah came over and crouched in front of her. "Are you ok?" he asked softly.

She shook her head silently as tears spilled down her cheeks. He took her into his arms as she cried silently against him.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Rachel had calmed down by the time Dr. Stevens came down and Noah excused himself while she spoke to the doctor.

"I heard there was an incident," the doctor said, glancing over Christopher's chart. "They've got him on seventy percent oxygen now, so hopefully there will be no more seizures."

"What caused it?" Rachel asked hesitantly.

"His body and brain were not getting enough oxygen," Dr. Stevens explained, taking a seat beside her. "Lack of oxygen causes the body to shut down. We hope that by increasing his oxygen level, we can hold off anything else shutting down so quickly."

"But it's definitely going to happen?" Rachel asked numbly. "You're sure?"

Dr. Stevens nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry, but yes. Now would be a good time to discuss your decision. When the time comes to make that choice, things will happen quickly and there may not be time enough to think it over then."

"I don't know what to do," Rachel admitted. "I don't want to lose him."

"I'm afraid you're going to lose him no matter what," the doctor said quietly. "It's just a matter of how. On his terms or your own."

"I'm not ready," she said shakily. "I'm not ready to lose him."

"Then you want the ventilator?"

"I…yes. Yes."

The doctor nodded, making a notation on the chart. "I'll let the nurses know, that way if I'm not on call, they know what to do."

"Ok," she whispered.

"I'm so sorry, Rachel," he said kindly, covering one of her hands with his.

"How long?" she asked suddenly.

"It's hard to say. It could be days, a week, maybe. But I don't think it will be longer than that."

Rachel closed her eyes, tears running down her cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered.

He patted her hand gently. "I'll let you have some time with him."

The doctor left and she turned her attention back to her son. He was sleeping, but the tenseness of his face let her know it was anything but peaceful. She took one of his cold hands in hers and leaned down next to his ear.

"Hey, Bug," she whispered. "It's ok, Mommy's here." She had uttered those words countless times through the years, after all the nightmares and treatments he'd received. They did little to soothe him this time. She cleared her throat and began to sing.

_I held you close to me_

_Once in a distant dream_

_Far from the shores of my fear_

_I sailed on this ocean_

_Where all I imagined could happen_

_And now you are here_

_It's so hard to touch _

_What is out of our hands_

_To know and to trust _

_What the heart understands_

_Only the ones who believe_

_Ever see what they dream_

_Ever dream what comes true_

_Life gives us magic_

_And life brings us tragedy_

_Everyone suffers some loss_

_Still we have faith in it_

_Childlike hope_

_There's a reason that outweighs the cost_

_And gravity throws all these rules in our way_

_And sometimes the spirit refuses to play_

_Only the ones who believe_

_Ever see what they dream_

_Ever dream what comes true_

_Oh love_

_Turn me around in your arms_

_And in this dream we share_

_Let us not miss _

_One kiss_

_And add my regrets to the tears in the rain_

_That's what the color of roses contains_

_Only the ones who believe_

_Ever see what they dream_

_Ever dream what comes true_

Christopher let out a deep sigh and she saw his body visibly relax. She smiled and ran her hand over his bald little head. She heard the soft clearing of a throat behind her and turned to see her fathers standing there.

"Sweetheart," Daddy said quietly, "how is he?"

"Resting," she said in a low voice. "They don't think it will be long."

They came forward and wrapped her in their arms and she wrapped one arm around her closest father, not letting go of Christopher's hand.

"I'm so sorry," Dad murmured. "Can we do anything? Do you need anything?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm alright. I'm going to stay with him."

Daddy nodded. "Ok, sweetie. We're going to stay a little while too. The nurse says we can visit, two people at a time. Are you sure there's nothing you need? I can get you something to eat, some coffee, if you'd like."

"You can't get me what I need, Daddy," she said quietly, and her fathers could feel their hearts breaking for their little girl. "I'm just going to stay with him."

"Alright, sweetheart," Dad said soothingly. "That's alright."

She made her fathers leave an hour later, after Daddy's stomach rumbled and Dad looked like he was barely able to keep his eyes open without coffee. They promised to come back later. She was lost in her thoughts when a rustling noise roused her.

Christopher was awake. He pulled at the oxygen mask and Rachel's hands stilled his. "It's ok, baby," she said in a calm voice. "You have to leave this on."

His face scrunched up and he started crying. "Billy," he cried, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

Rachel struggled to remember what had happened to all of his presents during the commotion. She glanced under the bed, but they weren't there. "Sweetie, I don't know where they put them."

"Over by the window," someone said from behind her, and she turned to see her friends standing in the doorway.

"Ok, sweetie, we're going to get some Billy for you, ok?"

He shook his head, hiccupping as he cried. "Sing," he cried. "Mommy sing Billy."

She smiled down at him, running a gentle hand over his brow. "Ok, baby," she agreed. "Mommy will sing Billy."

She started slightly when the former members of New Directions came further into the room and began singing softly.

_Oh, oh, oh_

_For the longest time_

_Oh, oh, oh_

_For the longest time_

She smiled down at her little boy again, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, and started singing.

_If you said goodbye to me tonight_

_There would still be music left to write_

_What else could I do_

_I'm so inspired by you_

_That hasn't happened for the longest time_

A hand settled on her shoulder and Noah picked up the song.

_Once I thought my innocence was gone_

_Now I know that happiness goes on_

_That's where you found me_

_When you put your arms around me_

_I haven't been there for the longest time_

For a group not having sang together in many years, the group's voices blended together perfectly for the chorus.

_Oh, oh, oh_

_For the longest time_

_Oh, oh, oh_

_For the longest time_

Rachel watched Christopher's eyes droop as she continued the song.

_I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall_

_And the greatest miracle of all_

_Is how I need you_

_And how you needed me too_

_That hasn't happened for the longest time_

Noah's hand squeezed her shoulder briefly as they switched leads.

_Maybe this won't last very long_

_But you feel so right_

_And I could be wrong_

_Maybe I've been hoping too hard_

_But I've gone this far_

_And it's more than I hoped for_

Rachel's hand found his on her shoulder and squeezed tightly, never taking her eyes off her son as she picked up the song again.

_Who knows how much further we'll go on_

_Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone_

_I'll take my chances_

_I forgot how nice romance is_

_I haven't been there for the longest time_

Noah's rich baritone echoed through the room as the group hummed in the background.

_I had second thoughts at the start_

_I said to myself_

_Hold on to your heart_

_Now I know the woman that you are_

_You're wonderful so far_

_And it's more that I hoped for_

Rachel's voice joined Noah's for the last verse, lulling Christopher the rest of the way back to sleep.

_I don't care what consequence it brings_

_I have been a fool for lesser things_

_I want you so bad_

_I think you ought to know that_

_I intend to hold you for_

_The longest time_

She was quiet as she readjusted the oxygen mask over her son's face before turning to the rest of the group. "I thought only two people were allowed in at once," she said.

Santana shrugged. "We're looking at that as more of a suggestion," she said flippantly. "Unless you want us to go."

Rachel shook her head. "No, you're fine. Thanks for singing to him."

"We can't deprive him of his favorite Billy music," Quinn said with a sad smile.

"How is he doing?" Artie said cautiously, wheeling forward a little bit.

"The doctors think it won't be but a few more days, if that. No more than a week," Rachel said quietly.

"We're sorry, girl," Mercedes said. "We wouldn't have thrown the party if we knew it was going to do that to him."

"I don't think it did," Rachel said honestly. "Besides, did you see how much fun he had, how much he loved it? I wouldn't have taken that away from him for anything."

"It was pretty funny watching him try to pin the tail on Mike," Tina chuckled.

"I've got pictures," Finn proclaimed, holding up a camera.

Rachel looked around at her friends and her heart swelled again. "Thank you, guys," she said.

No one said anything, but they all came forward to envelope her in a big group hug.

33333

Rachel sat in the same spot hours later, flipping absently through a book. Will and Emma were sprawled out in chairs on the other side of the room, both dozing lightly. She smiled at Christopher's godparents. She had sent everyone back to the hotel hours ago to get some sleep, but they had insisted on staying to keep her company. They had for awhile, but when they started to look sleepy, she'd pulled out a book and pretended to read and they'd fallen asleep almost instantly.

She herself wasn't tired in the least. She's been chugging the coffee people kept bringing her all day and wasn't drowsy at all. She kept her eyes on her son and on the monitors, looking for any sign that might indicate another seizure.

Christopher shifted in his bed and she studied him more closely. He was pale, a little more so than he had been the day before and every so often he would cough in his sleep. He shifted again and she watched his eyes flutter open.

She pulled her chair closer to the bed as his eyes focused. "Christopher?" He looked at her but his stare was blank. "Christopher, it's Mommy."

All of a sudden he started crying, soft little sobs that broke her heart. He pulled his oxygen mask off. "Mommy," he cried softly.

She lowered the railing of the bed and climbed in beside him without hesitating. "I'm right here, Bug," she said gently, taking him into her arms.

"I'm tired, Mommy."

She closed her eyes, leaning her cheek against his head. "I know, baby."

"I saw them again," he babbled. "They want to take me. I'm tired, Mommy," he cried again.

"It's ok, baby," she told him, her voice thick. "Mommy's right here, I'm not going to let anything hurt you any more, ok, baby?" She gazed down at him only to find he had fallen back into a fitful sleep. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying and pushed the call button for the nurse. When the nurse came in, she took a deep breath before speaking.

"I've changed my mind," she said strongly. "I don't want a ventilator. Just make him comfortable."

The nurse nodded. "I'll make note on his chart and page Dr. Stevens," she said. "I have some papers that need signed as well."

"Whatever it takes," Rachel said quietly. "I don't want my son to suffer any more. I'll sign whatever I need to."

33333

Though Rachel had told them to go back to the hotel and sleep, Puck sat in the waiting room with her two fathers. None of them could seem to make themselves leave, despite the fact that Will and Emma were in with Rachel and Christopher now.

They each held a steaming cup of black coffee and watched a television on mute in the corner of the room. They didn't speak and Puck thought it was pretty much because there was nothing left to say.

Their attention was drawn when a nurse walked briskly into Christopher's room. They had long since learned the difference between a casual walk of a medical professional performing periodical checks and the walk of someone with a purpose. This was no routine check.

They were waiting for her when the door open and she didn't seem surprised. She pulled them a little further down the hallway, away from Christopher's room. "She's changed her mind," she told them quietly. "She doesn't want the ventilator for Christopher."

"What happened?" Richard demanded.

The nurse shrugged apologetically. "I don't know," she said. "Nothing that I could tell, nothing medical. His stats were the same and he was sleeping."

"How is she?" David asked. "She must be devastated."

"She's holding up well," the nurse told them. "She was calm and direct, very clear on what she wants."

Puck glanced back toward the little boy's room, wondering why Rachel had changed her mind.

33333

AN: The songs in this chapter are _The Color of Roses_ by Beth Nielson Chapman and, of course, _The Longest Time_ by Billy Joel. Coincidentally, I wrote this long before the new season of Glee where Puck sang Billy Joel, and I was thrilled when he did, though a little put off my idea apparently wasn't that original. I blame it on my fondness for Billy.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

By morning, Christopher was receiving one hundred percent oxygen through the mask and Rachel knew it wasn't going to be much longer. She asked the nurse to page Dr. Stevens and he met with them all in the waiting room.

"Thank you for coming, I know you must be very busy," Rachel said calmly.

"Not at all," he assured her.

"I just had a few questions about what's going to happen, now that I've decided against the ventilator," Rachel said.

"Of course," Dr. Stevens said. "What would you like to know?"

Rachel hesitated briefly before plunging ahead. "What's going to happen?"

Dr. Stevens glanced around the group. "Breathing is going to become even more difficult for Christopher," he cautioned. "He's already on one hundred percent oxygen so there is nothing more we can do to make breathing easier for him."

"So he's going to suffocate?" Richard asked in horror.

"In a sense, yes," the doctor admitted with regret. "But we're going to give him medication that will make him sleep. His mind won't be aware of what his body is doing. He won't be in any pain."

"I know it's only supposed to be two people with him," Rachel said. "But when it's time, I want anyone who wants to be with him allowed in the room. My dads, Noah, his godparents, anyone."

"That's not a problem," the doctor assured her. "I'll let the nursing staff know, just so they're clear."

"Can he hear us?" David asked. "When he's on the medication, I mean? Before he…goes?"

"There's no conclusive proof one way or the other," Dr. Stevens said, glancing back at Rachel. "But I'd like to think so. I don't think it can hurt to believe that and to talk to him."

"How long will it take? Once he starts to get worse?" Rachel asked.

"It varies. I wish I could tell you it will be quick like you see on TV, but the truth is sometimes it takes hours."

The group gasped. "Hours?" Quinn asked. "How is that possible?"

"The body does not shut down all at once," Dr. Stevens explained. "It shuts down one system at a time, leaving the most critical systems, the brain, heart and lungs, as the last to shut down. But Christopher's body is weak and his systems have been shutting down for some time now. I don't think it will take a prolonged period of time. But we will keep him comfortable as long as it takes. He won't suffer, I promise you that, Rachel."

Rachel nodded numbly. "Thank you, Dr. Stevens."

"If there's anything else you need, please have the nurses page me. They'll be alerted at the desk by his machines when things start happening, so they'll know what to do."

The doctor departed and Rachel slipped quietly back into her room to sit by her son. She heard the door open moments later and strong arms encircled her body from behind. She knew it was Noah just from the fact that he didn't say anything.

"This almost doesn't feel real," she murmured after a few moments.

He rested his chin on her shoulder as they gazed down at her son. "I know."

"I don't want him to hurt any more," she said in a calm voice. "He's hurt enough."

"We all support you no matter what you decide," he told her. "You're his mother, you know what's best for him. We all support that."

"I know," she said quietly. "I just wish things were different."

"Me too."

"I wish you could have known him before," she said. "Before the cancer, before the hospitals. He was such a happy little boy, such a bright light."

"He still is," he told her. "He had me wrapped around his little finger from the second I saw him with that gummy worm."

"He's like that," she said, a ghost of a smile on her face. "He had my heart in his hands from the moment he kicked me the first time. He took the rest of me when they put him in my arms that first time. It's impossible not to love him."

"It is," Puck agreed. "And I think everyone here is a testament to that."

"He loves them all," Rachel said absently. "He loved pinning the tail on Mike and naming a frog after Brittany. He really wanted to go for a ride in Artie's wheelchair."

"We're a family," Puck said softly. "Maybe not by blood, but that doesn't even matter anymore."

"He's not going to be a part of that soon."

"He'll always be a part of that," he told her in a gentle but firm tone. "We'll always remember him and you'll always love him."

"Not the same," she said evenly. "Not even close."

He sighed against her hair. "I know."

"I don't know how to say goodbye," she whispered. "I don't know what to say."

"You will," he assured her. "When the time comes, you will."

They stayed like that for hours, him holding her, watching her son sleep.

33333

Rachel was sitting with Quinn and Finn when she noticed the change. Christopher started gasping more with each breath, his chest heaving a little more every time he inhaled. She sent Finn for a nurse immediately.

"He's having more difficulty now," the nurse said, as she checked his vitals. "I'm going to up his morphine. It won't be long now."

Rachel nodded and sent Finn to the waiting room to tell the others before settling in next to her son. "You don't have to stay," she told Quinn quietly. "I'd understand if you didn't want to."

Quinn shook her head firmly, setting a dainty hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Of course I'm going to be here," she said. "Where else would I be?"

The door opened and the entire group filed noisily into the room, Rachel's dads rounding the other side of the bed to be close to their grandson. Puck nudged in beside Quinn, regret evident on his features as he gave her a sad smile.

"The nurse said it would be soon," Rachel murmured.

"We're here," Puck said softly. "However long it takes, we're here."

The next few minutes were spent in uncomfortable silence as they all stared down at the little boy. He was still, sleeping deeply from the morphine, even as his chest rose and fell harshly.

"We could sing to him," Kurt suggested. "He likes that, right?"

Rachel nodded. "He does."

"I've got one," Tina said softly. "Do you mind if I sing to him?"

Rachel smiled at her friends. "Please."

Tina leaned closer to the bed and her sweet voice echoed softly through the room.

_You'll remember me _

_When the west wind moves _

_Among the fields of barley _

_You can tell the sun in his jealous sky _

_When we walked in fields of gold _

_So she took her love _

_For to gaze awhile _

_Among the fields of barley _

_In his arms she fell _

_As her hair came down _

_Among the fields of gold _

Rachel was smiling softly as she joined in the song, the glee club filling the room with their voices shortly after.

_Will you stay with me _

_Will you be my love _

_Among the fields of barley _

_And you can tell the sun in his jealous sky _

_When we walked in fields of gold _

_I never made promises lightly _

_And there have been some that I've broken _

_But I swear in the days still left _

_We will walk in fields of gold _

_We'll walk in fields of gold _

_Many years have passed _

_Since those summer days _

_Among the fields of barley _

_See the children run _

_As the sun goes down _

_As you lie in fields of gold _

_You'll remember me _

_When the west wind moves _

_Among the fields of barley _

_You can tell the sun in his jealous sky _

_When we walked in fields of gold _

_When we walked in fields of gold _

_When we walked in fields of gold_

Rachel brushed a stray tear aside and her gratitude shown in her gaze as she glanced around at her friends. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Christopher's breathing became more labored and another nurse came in to check his vitals. "We're going to remove the mask now," she said quietly. "And we're going to up his morphine again."

Rachel closed her eyes briefly. "Can I hold him?"

"Of course." The nurse helped her lower the bed rail and Rachel climbed into the small bed beside her son once again. She took him into her arms as she felt his tiny body struggling with the effort to breathe.

"Christopher Bug," she said gently. "My Little Man. Mommy's here, baby."

She heard a sniffle and made a strong effort to tune everyone else out. She would be strong for her son in his last moments.

"You are so very special to me. You have been the best little boy a mommy could ever ask for. You are so loved, my angel. I will never forget you, never ever. You've been everything to me and you always will be, Bug. And I know you've been through a lot and I know you're tired. It's ok, baby. You won't hurt anymore."

She heard a sob, she thought from Quinn, but she focused her attention solely on her son.

"I know you're tired, baby," she said softly. "It's ok now. You can go now. Mommy's right here and you can go if you need to. I'm going to be fine, baby. You don't need to worry about me. I'm going to be just fine, sweetheart. I love you so much and I'm right here with you."

She stroked his head tenderly as his chest heaved more, his breathing shallow now, little gasps coming from his throat. She watched his face but his eyes stayed closed, his face peaceful. She heard the crying from around the room and ran her hand across her son's cheek before singing tenderly to him one last time.

_May the angels protect you_

_Trouble neglect you_

_And heaven accept you when it's time to go home_

_May you always have plenty_

_Your glass never empty_

_Know in your belly_

_You're never alone_

_May your tears come from laughing_

_You find friends worth having_

_With every year passing_

_They mean more than gold_

_May you win but stay humble_

_Smile more than grumble_

_And know when you stumble_

_You're never alone_

_Never alone _

_Never alone_

_I'll be in every beat of your heart_

_When you face the unknown_

_Wherever you fly_

_This isn't goodbye_

_My love will follow you, stay with you_

_Baby you're never alone_

_Well, I have to be honest_

_As much as I want it_

_I'm not gonna promise the cold winds won't blow_

_So when hard times have found you_

_And your fears surround you_

_Wrap my love around you_

_You're never alone_

_Never alone _

_Never alone_

_I'll be in every beat of your heart_

_When you face the unknown_

_Wherever you fly_

_This isn't goodbye_

_My love will follow you, stay with you_

_Baby you're never alone_

_May the angels protect you_

_Trouble neglect you_

_And heaven accept you when it's time to go home_

_And when hard times have found you_

_And your fear surround you_

_Wrap my love around you_

_You're never alone_

_Never alone _

_Never alone_

_I'll be in every beat of your heart_

_When you face the unknown_

_Wherever you fly_

_This isn't goodbye_

_My love will follow you, stay with you_

_Baby you're never alone_

_My love will follow you, stay with you_

_Baby you're never alone_

She finished the song and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. "I love you, baby," she whispered tenderly.

The machine monitoring his heart rate let out a long, monotone beep. Her breath caught in her chest and she watched as the line that had previously run spiked across the screen went flat. Dr. Stevens appeared, stepping forward with a stethoscope, placing it to Christopher's chest. The room was silent as they waited. The doctor lowered his eyes, shaking his head briefly.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly to Rachel. "He's gone."

Her body shook and she lowered her head and wept, clinging to her son's body.

33333

Puck's heart had sunk the second Finn had burst into the waiting room, a panicked look on his face. They'd all immediately followed him back into Christopher's room and Puck had edged his way next to Quinn so he could be close to Rachel. He fought his tears as Tina sang _Fields of Gold_ and everyone joined her, gazes fixed on the little boy losing his fight right in front of them.

Rachel was remarkably composed, more so than he'd thought she would be, even when the nurse removed Christopher's oxygen mask and they all knew the end had come. He watched as she climbed into the bed and held her little boy close. He didn't even try to stop his tears as he listened to her say her goodbyes, telling her son how special he was and how much she loved him. He was nearly choking on his tears when she started singing to him, the words touching him deep inside. And when the heart machine flat lined and Dr. Stevens told them Christopher was gone, he watched as Rachel finally broke, resting her head on her son's shoulder, clutching him close, her heartbroken sobs echoing in the crowded room.

Her dads were holding each other, their grief evident in their posture, clinging to each other for strength. Emma had her head buried in Will's chest, and they were both crying. Brittany was on Artie's lap, crying, and Artie held her close, his hand extended to grasp Tina's. Mercedes was between Finn and Kurt and they were all crying, holding tightly to each other, Santana in a similar position with Matt and Mike. Puck reached out to Quinn, the nearest to him, and they cried together for the little boy and his mother.

They all stayed like that for a long time and Richard was the first to move. He approached Rachel slowly, hand hesitantly reaching for her. "Sweetheart," he said quietly.

Rachel didn't respond.

David stepped closer to his daughter and placed his hand on her back. "Honey, we need to call Rabbi Bernstein, there are arrangements to be made."

"Is he serious?" Puck heard Santana whisper behind him, and he knew others were shocked as well, but they weren't Jewish. They didn't understand how these things worked.

Rachel sniffled and he saw her nod slightly. "I just need a minute," she said shakily.

"We'll all be right outside," Richard promised her. "Just take your time, we'll be here."

They were all ushered into the hallway and they shuffled around uncomfortably. Rachel's dads stood to one side talking, and, not sure how to act, the rest of the group stood away from them.

"I can't believe he's gone," Emma said, shaking her head slightly.

"But he's not gone," Brittany said, looking at the rest of the group. "He didn't go anywhere."

Puck watched as Santana took the blonde aside and explained things to her. She came back a few minutes later. "Who's going to take care of Brittany now?" They all knew she wasn't talking about herself.

"Rachel will take care of Brittany," Santana said gently, putting her arm around her friend.

"But who will take care of Rachel?"

"We will," Quinn said firmly. She glanced at Puck. "Right?"

He nodded once, afraid to try to talk over the lump that had formed in his throat.

They were quiet again and they could hear bits of Richard and David's conversation, words like service and shivah.

Finn shook his head, his expression angry. "What's their big rush? Can't they give her some more time to deal with this before they bombard her with everything?"

"It's a Jewish thing," Puck explained quietly. "It's tradition to have the burial soon after death."

"Really?" Quinn asked curiously. "I didn't know that."

Puck nodded. "It's out of respect for the dead."

"What's shivah?" Tina asked.

"It's the mourning period. Three days, seven for Orthodox Jews. Basically the family stays home and mourns and people come and sit with them, bring them food, that kind of thing. I don't know how traditional she and her dads are, but shivah's pretty customary, at least for a few days."

"So should we start doing anything? Cooking, ordering flowers? Something like that?" Kurt wanted to know.

Puck shook his head. "No flowers. Jews don't do flowers for funerals. Most of the time it's just donations to a charity or something."

"We discussed this with Rachel some time ago," Richard said, wandering over with David. "Rachel mentioned the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, so that's probably what it will be."

Quinn shook her head slightly. "It's just so weird. I've never been to a funeral with no flowers before. It seems so wrong." She glanced at Puck. "No offense."

He shrugged. "None taken. Jewish funerals aren't like other religions', they're meant to mourn the life of someone, not celebrate them. It's supposed to be a serious event."

"No singing then, either, right?" Mercedes guessed.

"Nope."

The door to the hospital room opened and they all turned their heads to see Rachel shuffle out, eyes red and swollen. She looked so small. Her dads hugged her immediately and she was quiet as she sunk into their embrace. She pulled away after a few minutes and everyone else took their turn hugging her. She was crying again by the time the last person released her and Puck watched as Tina silently handed her a tissue.

"Honey, we called Rabbi Bernstein, he said he'll get started right away. He's planning the service for the day after tomorrow," Richard said gently.

Rachel nodded. "That's fine," she said, clearing her throat when her voice cracked.

"He will take care of everything, but he said you could prepare the obituary if you want."

"Or he can do it," David interjected quickly. "Whatever you want."

"I'll do it," Rachel said. "I'm his-I was his mother. I should do it."

"Whatever you want, sweetheart."

She wrapped her arms tight around herself. "What's going to happen to him?"

Her fathers exchanged glances and it was David who answered her. "They're going to send someone up for him and he'll be transported back to Lima this evening. Rabbi Bernstein has already made the arrangements."

"Do we have to be here for that?" she asked wearily.

"Of course not, honey. Not if you don't want to," Richard said gently.

"Can we go?" she asked softly. "I don't…I don't want to be here anymore."

Her dads swooped down on her instantly, ushering her towards the elevators. "Of course, absolutely," Richard said.

"You two go ahead," David said, gesturing to them. "I'll be there in a few minutes, I just need to take care of something."

Puck watched silently with the others as Richard led Rachel onto an empty elevator and then they were gone.

David turned to Puck. "I need a favor, Noah."

Puck nodded. "Sure."

"I need to gather the things Rachel had here and whatever Christopher had, but I don't want to take them with me. I don't want to push it on her right now. Can you take them for me?"

Puck was nodding before he even finished talking. "Absolutely. If you want, I can go grab the things from her locker in the lounge, I know her combination."

Between the two of them, they gathered all of Rachel's things quickly. "What about these?" David asked hesitantly, gesturing to the pile of Christopher's birthday presents. He glanced around at the group in front of him. "You can take these back."

"Absolutely not," Kurt said with an air of finality. "They were gifts for Christopher. Rachel can decide what she wants to do with everything later."

David nodded. "Ok. I think we have everything."

"We can help Puck carry it down to his car if you want to go," Mike volunteered, gesturing to the rest of the group. "You know, so Rachel doesn't have to see everything."

David hesitated. "That would probably be good," he hedged. "I just want to get her home."

"Go," Puck said. "We'll take care of it."

David clapped Puck on the shoulder. "Thank you, Noah, everyone. We'll let you know when the service is for sure. I'm sure she'd love for you all to be there."

Puck watched him leave before turning to the rest of the group. "Grab some stuff," he said simply, heading toward the elevator bay.

33333

AN: Ok, so now you all hate me. It's ok, I get it. From the beginning, before I even started writing this, there were certain things I knew would happen, and Christopher dying was always one of them. It's something I feel had to happen for this story to feel real and for the bond I wanted to form to be real. Also, I am fortunate enough to have no personal experience with leukemia. I am also not Jewish. Tons of research went into this story, but there may be factual errors in places. The facts I present are the results of, and my understanding of, the research I did. If something is wrong or incorrect, please consider that.

The songs in this chapter are _Fields of Gold_ by Eva Cassidy and _Never Alone_ by Lady Antebellum and Jim Brickman.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Rachel spent most of the long ride back to Lima curled up in the backseat of her Daddy's car, pretending to be asleep. The car was quiet and she knew Dad was crying because she'd hear him sniffle every now and then, heard Daddy say something soft and soothing.

It didn't do a damn thing for her.

When Dr. Stevens told her Christopher was gone, she didn't think she'd ever stop crying. She'd cried a long time, long after her friends had left the room. But she didn't think she could cry now, even as she remembered her last moments with her son, over and over again. She was numb now, and she didn't think she could cry if her life depended on it.

She was glad Rabbi Bernstein was taking care of the arrangements, glad she didn't have to worry about any of that. She'd discussed it with her fathers once, what she wanted for her son, and if there were any decisions that needed to be made, she knew they could make them.

She didn't want to do a damn thing other than curl up in her bed and sleep for a week.

But she couldn't do that and it was one of the few things she hated about being Jewish. She had to sit in her home while people paraded through for days, offering their condolences and sympathy, bringing her food she had no intention of eating. She was just glad it was only going to be for three days and not the traditional seven. She didn't think she could stand it.

She shifted uncomfortably in the backseat. Her fathers quieted and she knew without even opening her eyes that they were both looking at her, one over his shoulder, the other in the rearview mirror. Let the fishbowl begin, she thought bitterly.

She turned and pressed her face into the seat, trying her best to ignore them both, ignore everything.

33333

Puck loitered around the hotel suite as everyone packed their things. There wasn't much, but they had each brought a small bag with them when they came, containing a few changes of clothes, some toiletries. He shifted anxiously as he watched them scramble around the suite, bumping into each other in their haste to gather their things. They were as anxious to get back to Lima as he was.

He was pretty sure that Rachel's dads were going to end up being the ones to write Christopher's obituary. She had said she wanted to do it but he'd seen her face when she left, had seen the look before on his grandmother's face when his grandfather died a few years back. She had shut down after his grandfather died and he knew Rachel was doing the same.

He was pretty sure the next few days were going to be hell for her. Funerals weren't fun for anyone, especially Jewish funerals. They were somber, dark events and they were miserable. And then shivah. Why anyone would want to be bombarded with friends, neighbors and complete strangers for days after losing a loved one was beyond him. He figured that's what funerals were for, getting everyone's condolences, but that was the Jews for you.

He was glad, however, that he'd have an excuse to spend some time with her. Not that he needed an excuse, he knew, but he wasn't completely sure how to act around her right now, he wasn't sure what she needed.

The only thing he knew was that he wanted to take her in her arms and never let her go. She could cry if she wanted, she could scream and yell, but he wanted to be there with her when she did.

He told himself it was his way of making sure she was ok. He didn't believe it even as he was thinking it.

33333

It was late evening when Daddy pulled the car into their driveway and they all heaved long exhausted sighs. They sat silently in the car, not moving, not speaking, and Rachel realized it had been weeks since she'd been here. It seemed completely different somehow.

She sighed again before opening her car door, and her dads followed her cue, filing up the front walk silently. Dad unlocked the door and Daddy's arm rested on her shoulder. It felt heavy and she struggled with the urge to shrug it off, then the guilty feeling that followed. She knew they were hurting too, but she didn't want the contact, just wanted to be alone.

She murmured something to them once they were inside, but even she wasn't sure what she said. Something about being tired, maybe, about going to bed. She trudged up the stairs to her room, feeling their eyes on her the whole time.

She opened her bedroom door and was struck once again with how long it had been since she had been here. She let out a long breath. Christopher's pajamas still lay on her bed from the morning of his consultation, his toys scattered on the floor, a few small cars mixed among her makeup on the vanity. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take another deep breath. Her chest felt heavy, her limbs felt like they were made of lead and instead of fighting it any longer she simply collapsed into a heap on her bed, not bothering to get undressed. Her hands trembled as she closed her eyes, reaching out blindly, grasping her son's little Scooby Doo pajama top and bringing it to her chest. She felt the softness of the material in her hand, brushed it against her cheek before clenching her hands tighter to stop the shaking. She evened her breathing out until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

33333

Her dads checked on her several times that night, she knew. Despite her exhaustion and willingness to sleep for days on end, her sleep was restless and she awoke every time they opened the door. She could hear their whispers but couldn't make out the words. Her dreams were filled with images of her son, and the last one, the one that ended with her son being ripped from her arms, screaming at the top of his lungs, had her gasping for breath when she woke up. She sat in bed for a long time, her body shaking, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

Once she had calmed down, she rolled onto her side, hand still bunched in the tiny pajamas. She knew it was morning, the sun was shining outside her window, but she hadn't glanced at the clock yet. She wondered if her fathers were busy, if there was much to do. She'd never planned a funeral before, didn't know what needed to be done. She felt guilty leaving it to them and sighed, glancing at her pillow longingly as she got to her feet and shuffled downstairs.

Her dads were sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading the paper, same as they did every morning. Just like always. Just like nothing was different.

"Good morning, sweetie," Daddy said softly, and Dad turned his attention to her.

"Morning."

"There's coffee," Dad said, rising to his feet, halfway to the coffeepot. "Would you like some?"

"Or some breakfast," Daddy chimed in. "I can make pancakes if you want."

Pancakes were her favorite. Ever since she was little. They were Christopher's favorite too.

"No thanks," she said softly. "I'm not that hungry."

Daddy looked disappointed and Dad placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of her anyway. She wrapped her hands around it absently, not minding the scalding sensation against her skin.

"Is there much to do?"

Her dads exchanged a look. "No, I don't believe so. We spoke with Rabbi Bernstein this morning and he did mention choosing a casket. We also need to decide if we would like to speak at the service and the obituary needs written, but aside from that, he has the details pretty much taken care of."

"He can do those things too, right?"

"Ah, yes," Dad said, his face showing his confusion. "We just thought you'd want to pick the casket. And you said you wanted to write the obituary."

"Maybe it's better if he does it," Rachel said, staring down into her coffee.

"Of course, sweetheart," Daddy murmured. "Whatever you want."

"I'll go make the call now," Dad said, rising from the table. She heard him in the other room, heard him murmuring into the phone. She knew Daddy was staring at her across the table. She didn't raise her eyes from her coffee.

"He's going to take care of everything, sweetie," Dad said, coming back into the room. "The service will be tomorrow morning. I had him send the obituary to the New York paper as well, I hope you don't mind."

"No," she said quietly. "Whatever you want. That's fine." She glanced up at them and the concern in their eyes was stifling. "I think I'm going to go take a shower."

She retreated to her room before they could say anything and collapsed back into her bed, trying to still the rapid beating of her heart.

33333

Puck wanted nothing more than to pick up the phone and call Rachel, text her, something, to see how she was doing. He was pretty sure he was going crazy with it. He'd crawled in bed as soon as he'd gotten home, his car still full of toys and Rachel's belongings. He'd fallen asleep with a sad song in his head, a sad voice full of love and loss.

He slept for hours, the best sleep he'd gotten in a while and it took him several moments upon waking to really remember it all. He'd picked up his phone immediately but he had no calls, no messages. Nothing from Rachel.

He puttered around his apartment all morning, cleaning up. There wasn't much to do. His mom had been here, she'd kept the place in order while he spent his days at the hospital and she'd stocked his refrigerator with beer and casseroles.

Another glance at his phone told him Rachel still hadn't called. He hadn't expected her to, not really. She was grieving, she had lost her son, he was probably the last person she was thinking about and he was ok with that. It was just wishful thinking.

When his phone rang in his hand, he jumped, startled. Seeing Rachel's home number flash across the screen, he picked it up instantly.

"Hello?"

"Noah." Richard. Not Rachel.

"Richard. Hello. How's Rachel?"

"Sleeping, I think. I just wanted to call and let you know the service is going to be tomorrow morning, nine o'clock."

"I'll be there," Puck said. "How is she doing?"

The older man sighed and Puck thought he sounded exhausted. "I don't know, to be honest. She's been kind of distant since we've been home. She's stayed in her room mostly. She went to bed as soon as we got home last night and went back upstairs after breakfast."

"She'll get through this," Puck assured him. "It'll be tough but she'll be ok."

"Yes," Richard said roughly, clearing his throat. "Will you give everyone else a call and let them know about the service? I don't have all the phone numbers and I'm sure Rachel would be grateful to have them there."

"Of course," Puck said. "I'll get right on it."

"Thank you, Noah," Richard said quietly. "Thank you for everything."

"Not a problem," Puck said honestly, a bit uncomfortable with the display of emotion Rachel's father was showing. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He called Finn first, and the former quarterback assured him that he and Quinn would make a few phone calls as well so he wouldn't have to. In the end, they decided to call everyone so he found himself fidgeting again after he hung up the phone. He paced his apartment, tossing a football from hand to hand. He tuned his guitar and tried to play but found he was too distracted. He tried to eat but he wasn't hungry. He ended up on the couch, remote in hand, channel surfing when a familiar song caught his attention.

He flipped back to the channel and settled back into the cushions as a yellow sponge sang about life in a pineapple under the sea.

33333

She didn't sleep the night before her son's funeral. Her dads woke her for dinner that night and she'd trudged back upstairs immediately after, seeking the solace of her room. But she hadn't been able to go back to sleep, to turn her brain off the way she so desperately wanted.

She'd turned on the TV, hoping to find something to lull her into a nice deep slumber but the shows that usually worked did not tonight. She went through hours of pointless evening television, shows that did nothing to either amuse or soothe her. She watched all the late night talk shows, noting with disinterest that their guests were mostly talentless and uninteresting. She flipped through infomercials and reruns of sitcoms past, finding nothing that caught her eye.

She gave up on the idea of sleep around four o'clock and clicked off the television. She shifted anxiously in her bed, eyes darting back to check the clock every few minutes. Her hand clutched Christopher's pajama top again. She could hear the wind whistling outside her windows, left over from the storm earlier in the evening. She heard all the little noises of the house, creaking and settling. It was slowly driving her crazy.

She stayed in bed for another half an hour before giving up completely. She pulled on a hooded sweatshirt over her pajamas and crept quietly downstairs. A soft light glowed from the stove and she didn't bother flipping on the overhead light as she filled the tea kettle with water and set it on the burner. She pulled her favorite chamomile tea from the cabinet and leaned against the counter until the kettle started to whistle softly. She drank her tea at the breakfast bar, staring idly around the kitchen, marveling silently at how this still felt like home, even after all this time.

Once she'd finished her tea, she washed her cup quietly, adding in the few dishes soaking in the sink from the night before. Looked like Daddy still liked his late night snacks.

She shuffled into the living room and curled up on the couch, knees pulled to her chest. The glow of the cable box told her it was after five now and she knew her dads would be up soon. The service was scheduled for nine o'clock and they'd said something about going earlier. She supposed that was normal for things like this.

She sat there for a long time, curled in around herself, staring into space, thinking of nothing and everything. She blinked when she heard stirring upstairs and a glance at the clock told her it was now past seven. She shuffled back upstairs and into the shower before her fathers could see her up, could see the obvious sleepless night she had endured.

Her eyes were gritty and she felt exhausted but the hot water felt amazing on her body and she stayed under the spray an extra ten minutes longer than she normally would. She told herself it was in no way because she was dreading this day, and the ones to come.

Her fathers were both showered and ready when she finally went back downstairs, both men looking somber in their dark suits. She smiled slightly as she saw Daddy tug at his tie. He stopped when Dad swatted his hand away from the offending article.

"Morning," she said quietly, arms crossed, standing in the doorway taking in the scene.

They both turned to her and she could see them sizing her up: the dark circles under her eyes, the lack of makeup, the simple black dress.

"Do I look ok?" she asked quietly. "I'm not sure what one wears to bury their child."

They both cringed but she barely noticed.

Daddy came to her and enfolded her in his arms. "Sweetheart," he murmured. She stayed stiff in his embrace, not wanting the comfort he was offering, not wanting to feel anything that she would need to be comforted for.

He pulled back to look at her and she managed a small smile, fake as it was. It seemed to satisfy him enough. "Come eat something before we go," he said, tugging her gently towards the table.

"I'm not really hungry," she said. "Besides, won't people be bringing more food later? I wouldn't want to offend them, though I doubt I'll be eating any of that either."

"They'll understand," Dad said sagely.

Rachel shrugged. "Ok." Her dads exchanged looks again and she pointedly ignored them. "What time do we need to leave?"

Dad checked his watch and sighed slightly. "Soon," he said. "Did you want to see Christopher before the ceremony?"

"No," she said sharply, head snapping up to look at them. "_No."_

"You don't have to," Daddy said placing a hand on her arm. "Rabbi Bernstein just thought we should mention it to you. He said some people like to do that."

"Not me," she said shortly.

"That's fine," Dad said, effectively putting an end to the conversation. "As soon as we finish our coffee we should get going."

Rachel felt a stab of panic run through her but stifled it quickly. "Ok," she said simply. "Whenever you guys are ready."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Puck glanced in his rearview mirror and tugged at his tie uncomfortably before laying on the horn again. He heard Quinn sigh behind him.

"Maybe you should just go in and get him," she said to her boyfriend.

Finn glanced at the door, mild irritation marring his boyish features. "He knows not to be late," he muttered irritably. "He knows how important it is that we're on time for a change."

He was reaching for the door handle when his stepbrother came flying out of the house. "Sorry, sorry," Kurt apologized as he climbed in the backseat next to Quinn. "I couldn't find my-"

"Don't care," Puck cut him off. "If we're late, I will find the nearest dumpster and toss you in, I swear."

"Ah, the good ol' days," Kurt chirped, not put off by Puck's attitude. "I don't think we'll be late."

"Better not be," Puck mumbled, steering the car out into traffic. They were silent after that and he felt his nerves jump the closer they got to the synagogue he had attended since his childhood. He hadn't been back in a while and he was starting to feel a little guilty about that.

He parked in the side lot, explaining to his friends that Jews don't do funeral processions. He could tell Quinn was uncomfortable, even after all these years she was still Catholic, though not as strict as she'd once been. Finn told him last night that he'd had to talk her out of ordering flowers three times, despite what she knew about the Jewish beliefs. To her, Finn explained, it was just wrong not to send flowers, a beautiful sentiment for a beautiful little boy.

He led the others in the synagogue and immediately spotted Rachel sandwiched between her fathers in the front row. Quinn made a move toward her but he pulled her back, shaking his head silently. Pleasantries and sympathies were not exchanged before the dead was honored. Not when you were Jewish.

They took their seats about five rows behind the family and he could see Will and Emma a row in front of them. His mother and sister were here somewhere, he knew, and the other gleeks as well. He took a deep breath, shifting uncomfortably. Kurt nudged him and he shot him a glare before turning his gaze back to Rachel again.

It was hard to tell how she was from just staring at the back of her head. Her posture was straight and she hadn't moved since he'd sat down. He saw Richard glance at her several times before glancing at David over her head and he knew they were worried about her.

He sighed, shifting again, elbowing Kurt back when the boy nudged him again. He felt a slight sense of satisfaction when Kurt let out a soft grunt, rubbing his side gingerly. Puck ignored him, glancing down at his watch, wishing they would hurry and get this over with.

33333

She was aware of people entering the synagogue, was aware of the hushed voices speaking. She felt the weight of many eyes on her and she kept her back ramrod straight, her gaze focused straight ahead of her. She kept her breath even and her face calm.

She could do this.

As long as she didn't think too much about the small casket sitting mere feet in front of her. She kept her eyes focused above it, not looking at it, not wanting to see.

She took a deep breath.

The rabbi came in from a side door and stepped to a podium at the front. The crowd quieted instantly.

Another deep breath.

He started speaking and she was surprised at how easy it was to tune him out. She stared at her spot on the wall, above the casket, letting herself focus on only a few things. The wall. Her breathing. Keeping her back perfectly straight, her face completely neutral.

She could do this.

She kept breathing, feeling the shift of her body on every inhale, every exhale. She felt Daddy shaking beside her, felt Dad take her hand and she fought to stay inside her little bubble.

In.

Out.

She could do this.

And then the room was noisy again and Daddy was moving and Dad was tugging her up. She found herself folded between them as they hugged her and she panicked, wanting her quiet, isolated little moments back.

Daddy put his arm around her and steered her outside and she felt the eyes on her again. She took a deep breath, trying to stave off the intrusion of the outside world once again.

Daddy stayed glued to her side as he bundled her into the backseat of a car and she lost track of how much time was spent waiting and how much was spent driving.

In.

Out.

The car stopped and Daddy pulled her out again and she realized they were at the cemetery. The place where she would lay her son down and leave him for the last time.

Her breaths were coming faster now and Daddy's hand was tight in hers.

She stumbled along behind him, trying not to look around, not to focus on anything. But when they seated her in front of a casket, _her son's casket_, she found she had no other choice. There was nowhere to put her eyes, nowhere else to gaze. People were crowded all around her now and Will and Emma were standing directly across from her, on the other side of her son. She could just imagine how they looked, the feelings showing in their eyes that would bury her. With no other choice, she fixed her gaze on the simple box holding her son, her tiny little boy.

In.

Out.

It wasn't working anymore, wasn't keeping them all out now. She clenched her jaw as the ache inside her started and she willed herself to keep it together. She was an actress.

She could do this.

In.

Out.

33333

Puck stood at the grave sight beside Will and Emma, the rest of the gleeks milling around them. He wasn't sure whether Rachel knew they were there or not. She was silent and her eyes were clear, though they kept darting around as if she weren't sure where to put them.

She hadn't cried during the service, he knew that. He'd watched her closely. He'd seen Richard break down, had seen David fight for his composure. Hell, he'd even been fighting tears himself. But she had remained composed, her spine stiff, posture tense.

She seemed to be deflating a little now, he noticed. He saw the emotions flit across her face, too quickly to be named. Her eyes were wide and she was taking deep breaths.

He hoped they got through this quickly. He was afraid she wouldn't make it otherwise.

The rabbi stepped forward once again and Puck bowed his head as a prayer was recited in Hebrew. He raised his eyes slightly and saw that Rachel had not bowed her head, had not closed her eyes. Her face was a mask of stone now, but he saw the faint trembling of her hands and silently urged the rabbi to hurry so her fathers could get her out of here.

Generic words were spoken and Puck remembered why he hated these things so much. These people didn't know Christopher, this rabbi was one of Lima's, had probably never met the little boy. There was no mention of Christopher's bright smile, his infectious laugh so much like his mother's. His big brown eyes. His ability to wriggle under your skin and never look back. He was simply relegated to a series of prayers designed to show honor and respect. He wasn't known here, not really.

The service was short and before long the casket was being lowered into the ground. Rachel's dads helped her forward, arms around her, and they helped her pitch a handful of dirt down onto the coffin. Her eyes were vacant and she was breathing quickly.

Will and Emma stepped forward, dirt in hands, and he and the gleeks followed. His hand shook as he opened his fist and let the dirt fall loosely. He gave one last look down at the casket, said a silent promise before turning his eyes back to the living, to the woman he knew was going to have a horrible time with this. She raised her eyes to meet his briefly and he was taken aback by the lack of emotion he saw there. Then her dads were moving her again and she was gone.

"What do we do now?" Tina asked softly once they were all gathered by their cars.

"Shiva," his mother said, coming to join their group. "We give them a little time, a half hour is customary, then we go to them. Sit with them while they grieve."

"For three days, right?" Finn asked.

Nora nodded. "Yes. Though it's not three continuous days. You can come and go as you please. Visit once, visit all three days. It's up to you."

"She's gonna hate this," Puck muttered, running a hand over his head.

"Noah," his mother scolded. "It's the Jewish way."

"It sucks," he said bluntly. "And it's probably the last thing she wants."

"It is what the religion deems appropriate," his mother said softly. "I'm going to take Sarah and stop by the house. I've got some food made. I'll head over after that."

He knew she wanted him to share his plan with her but he simply nodded. She waited, tapped her foot once, and finally raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed. "I'm going over soon."

She smiled at him, patting his cheek condescendingly. "Good. I'll see you there."

He swore under his breath as she walked away, mostly because he was starting to feel a little too much like a good little Jewish boy, and that had never really been him. The others chuckled quietly.

Finn shifted restlessly. "Is it ok that we go?" he asked. "I mean, none of us are Jewish. It seems kinda wrong to go."

Puck shrugged. "It's not all Jews. I mean, yeah, mostly. But I don't think it has to be. You can call it something else if it makes a difference. Visiting hours or something."

Finn's eyes slid to Quinn but he didn't say anything. She slid her hand into his. "I think we should go," she said softly. "Puck's right, she's going to hate this. This is probably the last thing she wants to do, sit there and pretend she's ok for all those people. At least if she's with us, she won't have to pretend as much. We can give her that, at least."

"It probably won't be so bad," Puck lied, stuffing his hands down into his jacket pockets. "Most of the people will probably show up and just get it out of the way. I doubt if many people will come every day, aside from me and Mom."

They all nodded, averting their eyes, studying the area around them. Artie cleared his throat after a few moments. "It's almost been a half hour," he said quietly. Everyone nodded again, looking to Puck. He sighed. Apparently he was running this show.

"Ok," he told them, taking a step forward. "I'm gonna head over now. Ya'll are welcome to go with me."

Mike fished his car keys out of his pocket. "We'll follow you," he said solemnly.

33333

He pulled up in front of the Berry house ten minutes later and several cars pulled in behind him. They all waited while Artie was situated in his chair and headed up the walk together.

David answered the door and gave them all a wobbly smile. "Thank you for coming," he said.

Puck nodded, a little uncomfortable with the emotions on display. "How's she doing?"

David frowned slightly. "She's been a little distant, to be honest." He invited them in and was about to say something else when the sound of glass breaking came from the other room. "Excuse me," he murmured, taking off in the direction of the noise.

The group lingered uncomfortably in the foyer. "We should find Rachel," Quinn said finally. They all agreed and they fanned out through the first floor, eyes peeled for their friend.

There were quite a few people here already, and the kitchen was already overflowing with food but none of them had seen Rachel among the darkly-clad mourners. Puck heard Kurt and Mercedes discussing where she could be and he caught Finn's eye, gesturing with his head. The taller boy followed him out of the room.

"What's up?" Finn asked.

"I'm gonna head upstairs, see if she's up there," Puck told him.

"Want us to come with you?"

Puck shook his head. "Nah. I wanna see how she is first, before bombarding her with people, you know?"

"Makes sense."

"I'll text you and let you know."

Finn went back to their group of friends and Puck climbed the stairs. The hallway was dim and he was assaulted with memories of the first time he'd been here, so close to Rachel Berry's bedroom. They'd both been so different then, him so cocky and arrogant, her so small and unsure. That was the thing that had surprised him about Rachel Berry, the moment things had changed permanently. Because anyone you'd asked would have told you Rachel Berry was the most confident, arrogant, sure of herself person they knew. But he learned that day that that description wasn't even remotely accurate. She'd tried to play it off like she knew what she was doing, like she wasn't nervous, but the tremors of her body, the doubt in her eyes showed him differently. It was the first time he realized she really was just like everyone else, with all her doubts and insecurities, hidden though they may have been.

He shook himself from his thoughts and walked down the hall to her bedroom. The door was closed and he'd thought she would have had music playing but there was only silence. He tapped lightly on the door but received no response.

Most people would consider it rude to enter a room you hadn't been invited into, especially if no one answered your knocks. He wasn't one of those people.

He twisted the knob and pushed the door open gently. She was standing by the window, arms crossed over her chest. The lights were off but she had the blinds open and sunlight filtered softly into the space. He stood and watched her and she didn't acknowledge him.

Finally he cleared his throat. "Rach," he said softly.

Her spine stiffened, just a small fraction of movement, and he realized she may not have known he was there.

She turned slightly, her gaze even. "Noah."

"We didn't see you downstairs."

She shrugged, turning back to the window. "It hasn't even been an hour and I'm already sick of this."

He walked further into her room, taking in the mess. He'd never known Rachel to be messy and he eyed the room curiously. He saw children's clothes, toys, and a heaviness filled his heart. This room was full of reminders of her son. He stepped closer, resting his hands on her shoulders, peering out the window to see what she was watching.

Cars. More people coming to see her.

She sighed slightly and leaned back into him. "I suppose I should at least make an appearance."

He rested his chin on the top of her head. "I think people will understand if you don't."

She snorted a little. "Noah, these are Jewish people. They expect you to be miserable in front of them."

"Tough," he said, wrapping his arms around her, holding her to his chest. "I'm a little sick of this too. I'm not ready to go back down yet."

"You just got here."

"And I can already tell this fucking sucks," he said honestly. "Take a break. Breathe a little. It's cool."

She opened her mouth to say something but then she stiffened in his arms. He glanced at her in concern but her gaze was riveted out the window, still on the people coming to her house.

"I can't believe it," she muttered angrily to herself. "I can't fucking believe it."

His eyes widened at her words and leaned in closer. "Rach?"

She pulled away from him, turning on her heel and marching out her bedroom. She was halfway down the stairs when he caught up with her and he could tell she was pissed. She stalked up to her father, who was talking to a man Puck had never seen before.

Richard's eyes widened when he saw his daughter but she cut him off before he could say anything. "How dare you?" she hissed, and Puck was surprised until he realized she wasn't speaking to Richard but to the man he was with.

The man said nothing and Puck took the opportunity to size him up. He was young, their age, maybe a little older. Average looking, no defining features one way or another. Dark hair, blue eyes.

Rachel pulled him from his observations when she spoke again. "I can't believe you would even come here. Haven't you done enough?"

"I have a right to be here," the man said evenly.

"You're not Jewish," she retorted. "Not even close."

"He was my son too, Rachel."

Puck's jaw dropped at the revelation. So this was Jason. He could understand Rachel's anger now, and if he was having this much trouble controlling his boiling rage, she was doing an outstanding job with her own.

"He's not your son," she said lowly, advancing a step on the man.

"Of course he is," Jason argued, stepping closer as well. Puck narrowed his eyes and moved forward, stopping when he felt a restraining hand on his arm. He looked up and saw Will, looking just as pissed as he was. He could see the shocked faces of his friends not far behind.

"You gave up the right to call him your son," Rachel said, words laced with years of anger and bitterness. "You lost that right when you walked out on him and never looked back!"

"I was scared!" Jason exploded. They were attracting more attention now, but neither of them cared.

"And I wasn't?" Rachel yelled, her voice high and full of disbelief. "I was his _mother!_ He was my first child, my baby and he was _sick_! I was _terrified_!"

"I couldn't deal with that," Jason shouted. "It was too much!"

"It was always too much! You think I enjoyed it? You think he did? We did what we had to do, and if you were any kind of man at all, you would have done the same."

"I did what I had to do," Jason said evenly. Puck clenched his jaw tighter. There was no remorse in his tone, no tears for his lost son. The man wasn't even sorry for what he'd done, even years later.

"I'm not having this conversation with you," Rachel said, letting out a small laugh, and Puck could see her hands were shaking. "You don't belong here. You need to leave."

"Not until I'm done."

"You're done," Richard said stepping forward, his hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Rachel," Jason said softly. "Please. Let's talk."

Puck frowned, not liking the sudden change in the guy's tone. Rachel averted her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest, and Puck knew this was the last thing she needed today.

"Jason. Go home," Richard said sternly.

"Sweetie, please," Jason pleaded with Rachel, ignoring her father. "I just want to talk to you. I've missed you. We can work this out, I really think we can, honey."

Puck's jaw dropped and Will once again pulled him back before he could do something stupid.

Rachel's head snapped up and there was a fire in her eyes Puck hadn't seen in a long time. "Seriously?" she asked incredulously.

"I never stopped loving you," Jason said, placing a hand over his heart. "I thought about you every day."

"What about our son?" Rachel demanded. "Did you think about him?"

"He's in a better place now, sweetie."

No one saw the slap coming, but in retrospect it wasn't unwarranted.

"How dare you?" she hissed again. "He loved you. _I_ loved you. You didn't just abandon your son, you asshole, you abandoned your whole family! And now you think I'm just going to forget that? How dare you?"

Jason's cheek bore an angry red handprint but he didn't give up. "We were good together," he said, reaching for Rachel. He rubbed his thumb over her wrist and Puck saw red. He felt more hands on him, keeping him in place.

"We were," Rachel admitted softly. "We made a beautiful little boy together. We had a good life together. And then you went and fucked it all up. So forgive me if I'm not too thrilled to be in your presence right now."

"I checked the paper every day," Jason said. "Every day for the last three years. And yesterday I saw it. My son's obituary."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Yes, I saw it too," she bit out. "When my rabbi wrote it. After my son died in my arms. You should have been here, should have been with him."

"He's still my son, Rachel," Jason said stubbornly.

She was quiet for a long moment. "Then you should have acted like it when it mattered," she said simply, before turning on her heel and walking out the front door.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Rachel expected someone to follow her. Her dads, Noah, Will maybe. She did not expect Santana.

"I don't think I've ever heard so many inappropriate words come out of your mouth before," the Latina commented wryly.

Rachel didn't say anything, just kept stalking down the sidewalk.

"So that's the ex, huh? Not much going on upstairs, is there?"

Rachel chuckled at that and slowed her pace to match the former Cheerio's. "Doesn't appear to be."

"Kind of awesome how you told him off like that though," Santana said casually. "I always knew you had an angry chick somewhere in there."

Rachel blew out a breath, puffing her cheeks out a little. "I can't believe he came here," she said quietly. "I just can't believe him."

"What can't you believe? That he came here or that he came here wanting to get with you again?"

Rachel felt a small laugh bubble out of her. "Good point."

The walked down the sidewalk in silence for awhile before Santana spoke again. "So where are we going?"

"There's a little bar just down the road. Hadn't thought much past that," Rachel told her.

"Obviously. You didn't even grab your purse."

Rachel blinked, realizing she was right, before shrugging. "Oh well. He knows my dads, he can start a tab."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Trust me, Berry, no bar in this town runs tabs."

Rachel shrugged again. "I'll figure something out."

"Don't sweat it, B. I've got a credit card. I'll bankroll you, just this once."

Rachel sent her a tight smile. "Sounds like a plan."

33333

Puck had meant to go after Rachel, he really had, but somehow his fist had gotten tangled up with the jackass's nose and then the jerk threw a punch back and suddenly they were rolling around on the floor.

He got a few good hits in before Will hauled him up and Puck smirked when he saw the reluctance on his former teacher's face.

Jason came up screaming. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Puck swiped at the cut on his lip, a feral grin stretching across his face. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he retorted. "Walking out on that amazing woman and that awesome kid? What the fuck is wrong with _you_?"

"Oh, so you're the one," Jason snarled. "You're the one she went running to. I knew she wouldn't be able to do it on her own. She thinks she's so perfect but she's not."

"You shut your mouth," a feminine voice spat. Puck turned and was shocked to see Emma glaring at Jason. "She was with Christopher every step of the way and she did it on her own. She didn't need you and she certainly didn't need anyone else."

"Oh no," Jason drawled. "She never needed anyone. Made that pretty clear too."

"Weren't you just leaving?" Puck ground out.

"What are you, in love with her or something?" Puck stayed quiet and Jason burst out laughing. "Oh, that's rich. What was your angle? Let me guess. You just wanted to take care of her, right? Can't say I blame you though, she's a tiger in the sack."

Will didn't even try to hold him back when he launched himself at Jason again.

33333

Puck shifted the ice pack against his cheek, wincing as he pressed a little too hard on the tender spot. Richard was pacing back and forth in front of him. David was seated on the couch, wringing his hands nervously, eyes drifting toward the door every few seconds.

It had been two hours and Rachel hadn't come back yet.

It had taken all the glee guys and Will to pull him off Jason the second time. The douche was screaming about lawyers and lawsuits when Richard finally physically threw him out.

David had called Rachel's cell phone, and the ringing could be heard from the kitchen. She didn't have her phone.

It was Brittany who noticed that Santana was missing first. He'd hoped that meant San went after Rachel, unlikely as it was, but when they called her cell phone, she didn't answer.

Her dads were worried. So was he.

Finn and Quinn had left an hour ago, driving around Lima, hoping to spot her out somewhere. He didn't think the chances were too good, but Quinn had wanted to do something. Everyone else had left after Rachel disappeared, leaving only the glee kids and Puck's mom, who had arrived just in time to see his fight. She was alternating between sending him dirty looks, like this whole thing was his fault, and trying to shove food down Richard and David's throats.

The sound of the front door opening caught everyone's attention and David anxiously stood up, grasping Richard's arm.

The last thing Puck ever expected to see was a drunken Rachel stumble through the doorway, leaning heavily on Santana, giggling like a little girl.

They all stood, mouths hanging open, because in all the years they'd known Rachel Berry, Puck knows not a single one of them had ever seen her drink, let alone bombed out of her mind like she is now.

She is in the middle of telling Santana some important story and pays no attention to the others in the room. "So then I told him that not only did I have an amazing body, I have no gag reflex as well. Needless to say, my job as understudy didn't last long. And then when he tried to take advantage of that I threatened to sue for sexual harassment." She giggled again. "He wasn't too happy but the playbills were already printed and it would have been _craaaazy_ expensive to re-do them."

Santana was laughing as she helped Rachel over to a couch. "You know, B, I'm starting to believe the rumors in high school about you getting Sandy Ryerson fired were true."

Rachel batted her eyelashes. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't think I should be prejudiced against just because I can cry on cue. It could have been anyone, really," she said, giggling again.

She collapsed back into the cushions and her dads fawned over her. "Sweetheart, are you alright?" David asked anxiously.

"I'm fine, Dad," she said, grinning up at him, her cheeks red. "Santana and I had a wonderful time."

"Why don't we take you up to bed, honey?" Richard said tiredly. "Let you sleep this off some."

Rachel shrugged. "Ok. But I think I can make it fine on my own." She stood up and wobbled, pitching forward and Richard was quick to grab her.

"That may be so, honey, but Dad and I will help you anyway, ok?"

She wriggled her fingers at the rest of the group, calling a slurred goodbye over her shoulder as her fathers escorted her from the room. Puck waited until she was out of sight before advancing on Santana.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Lopez?" he growled.

"You're going to have to be more specific," she drawled. "I've thought a lot of things today."

"You got her drunk, San! She buried her son today and you got her trashed!"

"So?"

"So? This is not the time!"

Santana put her hands on her hips, glaring back at him. "So when she said she wanted to forget, when she said she wanted to drink until she felt better, or at least didn't think about it so much, I should have said no?"

"She wanted to?"

Santana rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Of course she did, you jackass. You think I just strong-armed her to the nearest bar and poured tequila down her throat myself? Please."

"I didn't know she drank," Artie said, a baffled look on his face. "I never would have thought she would."

"Well, she does, and after that asshole showed up, she wanted to. So I stayed with her, cut her off when she had enough and brought her home. Should I have done something differently? Because she was headed there alone, and I didn't see any of you chasing her down," Santana said, glaring accusingly at her friends around her.

Puck tuned them out as Mike explained the fight with Jason, the conversation and then the other fight with Jason. He jerked when he felt a hand against his cut lip.

"Fuck! Easy with that!" he spat.

"You used to be able to take a punch," Santana said, her words lacking malice. "You've gone soft."

"Shut up," he muttered, shifting the ice pack again.

"It's good you were there, Santana," Kurt said quietly. "It was good of you to take care of her."

Santana shrugged, obviously uncomfortable with the praise. "She'd have done it for me, for any of us," she said simply.

Footsteps drew their attention and Richard came back into the room. "She's sleeping," he said. "What did she drink? Whatever it was, it seems she had quite a bit of it."

"Tequila, mostly," Santana said with a shrug. "And yeah, B can put away her liquor, a lot better than I was expecting."

"Thank you for bringing her home," Richard said. "I imagine she'll be quite hungover tomorrow."

"We called you," Mercedes said suddenly. They all turned to look at her and she was staring at Santana. "We called your cell phone and you didn't answer."

"She didn't want to talk to anyone."

"You couldn't have texted?" Mercedes pushed. "To let someone know she was ok, at least?"

"Look, she wanted an escape, just for a little while. Why are you being so pissy with me here?"

"No one's, uh, pissy, Santana," Will interjected gently. "We were all worried about her but we understand and are grateful that you helped her out. Right guys?" he asked, and Puck was pretty sure he wasn't the only one transported back several years to a choir room where a man with curly hair tried in vain to diffuse the many diva moments they had.

"I think we're going to leave," Nora said softly. "Let you guys get some rest. You look exhausted." And it was true. Richard looked like he was about ready to fall over and Puck was pretty sure David was already asleep upstairs.

They all decided to go, agreeing to come back tomorrow, and Richard walked them all to the door. He stopped Puck on the way out.

"Noah, if Jason was serious about pressing charges, I'll handle it," he said, his hand on Puck's shoulder.

Puck nodded once. "I'm not too worried about it. Besides, he had it coming."

Richard set his lips in a grim line. "Yes, he most certainly did."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Noah."

33333

Rachel thought shivah had to be the most torturous experience ever. True to Daddy's predictions, she had the worst hangover of her life after her night at the bar with Santana, and she had to deal with two more days of people on top of it.

If there was one thing she had learned about Jewish women in her life it was that they were busybodies. She was bombarded with people the next day, armed with the latest gossip and full of questions about Jason. A few people even asked about her relationship with Puck.

She knew she could probably escape upstairs again but she felt so guilty about her disappearance and subsequent drunkenness that she stayed and dealt with all the people. She was relieved when it was all finally over.

The day after her shivah ended and their time was their own again, Rachel announced she was going back to New York.

Her fathers' mouths dropped open. "New York?" Daddy stuttered. "Honey…_why_?"

"That's my home, Daddy."

"This is your home too," Dad reminded her.

"I have a life there," she said softly. "It's time to get back to it." She knew that was true, that it made sense, but in all honestly, she thought if she spent one more day in this house she was going to scream. She was suffocating. First the shivah, then her fathers' constant attention. Every time she turned around, someone was there and she felt so smothered she couldn't stand it. She felt like they were just waiting for her to crack.

"What's the rush, sweetheart? You can take as long as you need," Dad said gently.

"I know," she said. "But I really think it's time. I've already booked my seat. My flight leaves tonight."

"Tonight? But that's so soon!" Daddy cried.

"I have to move on," she said evenly. "I have a life and I need to get back to it."

Dad sighed, running his hand through his thinning hair. "Have you told Noah yet?"

"Not yet."

"You should call him, sweetheart."

She averted her eyes. Noah had been here all week, as had most of the gleeks. He had been so sweet, so attentive, and she truly enjoyed his presence. He had really stepped up and taken care of her this week.

That was the problem, she knew. If she continued to stay here, he would continue to take care of her. Because of her son, because of the promise he'd made him. He would do whatever he could, sacrifice whatever he could for her, and she knew she couldn't let that happen. She already felt guilty about all the time off he'd taken from work when he was trying to move up in the company. She wouldn't let him do anything else for her.

"I'll call him later," she said, more to herself than to her fathers. "I'm going to go pack everything up."

33333

She didn't call him. She meant to, she really did, but she got caught up packing her things. And then she'd started packing Christopher's things and it had all gone downhill from there.

She was quiet on the way to the airport and her dads kept glancing back at her in the backseat. She forced herself to take calming breaths. Soon she would be home and she wouldn't have to put on a brave face 24/7. Soon.

The flight back was uneventful and she merely closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the seat. She threaded her way through the sea of people in the airport terminal, stepping out into the cold air and inhaling deeply. She took another deep breath and hailed a cab. She was almost home.

It felt like another lifetime that she had lived here. Her hand trembled slightly as she twisted the key in her lock, opened the door. She was met with stale air and a quiet that hurt her heart. She shut the door quietly behind her, leaning back against it briefly before hanging her coat in the closet. She pulled her luggage into the living room and eyed it momentarily before deciding she was just too tired to deal with it. She toed off her shoes, leaving them right in the middle of the floor and slipped into bed.

She would sleep now. Everything else could wait.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

It had been two weeks since anyone had heard from Rachel. Puck had been upset when he'd called her house and Richard had told him she'd gone back to New York but a part of him had understood. She was grieving, he knew, and he had seen the way her dads were, hovering around her all the time. He could just imagine how trying it must all be.

Still, she hadn't returned a single one of his phone calls or texts, and he knew she hadn't spoken to her fathers either, except for the lone text message she had sent letting them know she had arrived safely home.

He was worried about her.

He was at dinner one night, at Finn and Quinn's apartment, a cold beer clutched between his hands. His friends were talking but he tuned them out. He hadn't been able to think about anything other than Rachel for days now.

Something hit him in the head and bounced into his lap and he frowned as he picked it up. A crouton. He glanced up at his friends and Finn was grinning.

"Dude, I've been talking to you for five minutes, what the hell?"

"It's not my fault you're boring and have nothing interesting to say," Puck retorted, whipping the crouton back. It hit the wall beside Finn's head and shattered to pieces.

"Thank you, Puck," Quinn said sarcastically. "Like I didn't already have enough to clean up with Finn trying to help me cook."

Finn grinned sheepishly and Puck wondered how his friend had managed to get spaghetti sauce on the ceiling. At least he was tall enough to clean it off himself.

"Have you heard from Rachel yet?" Quinn asked, setting the salad down on the table.

Puck shook his head as his friends joined him at the table. "Nope. Her dads haven't heard from her either."

"She hasn't returned our calls either, and Mike said it's the same for everyone else," Finn informed him.

They ate in silence for awhile, Puck savoring the home cooked meal but not really enjoying it as much as he usually did. His mind was somewhere else, his thoughts on a tiny woman with dark hair and dark eyes.

"I'm going," he said suddenly.

Finn paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Going where?"

"New York."

"For Rachel?"

"No, to sightsee. Christ. Yes, for Rachel," Puck snapped.

"What if she doesn't let you in?" Quinn said.

Puck grinned and pulled out a key ring, a single silver key dangling from it. "She doesn't have to."

"Where did you get that?"

"Her dads gave it to me. They're worried about her too."

"I'm going with you," Quinn announced.

Finn whipped his head around to look at his girlfriend. "What?"

"I'm going," she said again, and there was a determined tone to her voice.

"It's ok, Q, I can handle it," Puck told her.

"She may not listen to you," Quinn pointed out. "She may think you're only there for one reason, and that's because you made a promise to her son. Now, I think we all know that's not really the reason you're going, but she's Rachel and she'll think that."

"Are you sure?"

"Finals are over," Quinn shrugged. "I can put off work for a little longer. It's totally fine."

"I wanna go," Finn whined.

Quinn laughed and ruffled his hair. "You have a few more weeks until school lets out for the summer. Can you take time off now?"

"No," he grumbled. "But I'm worried about her too."

"I know," Quinn said soothingly. "And I'll make sure Rachel knows you wanted to come."

Finn sulked and Puck was struck with the image of a pouting child. "Fine."

Quinn was smiling when she turned her attention back to Puck. "When are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning. I want to get there soon."

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They hadn't been able to book two seats on a flight until that evening and Puck was antsy all day and all through the flight. They grabbed a taxi outside the airport and Puck gave the driver Rachel's address, hastily scribbled on a piece of paper in David's chicken scratch he called handwriting.

Her apartment building was nice, a multi-storied brick building. They took the elevator to her floor and Puck jingled the key nervously in his hands. Finding her apartment, they knocked first, just to be polite, and when she didn't answer, he put the key in the lock and twisted.

Her apartment was dark and showed no signs of life. They walked through slowly, afraid to disturb the quiet that enveloped them. His foot connected with something on the floor and he pitched forward with a startled yell, smacking his knee on a coffee table. Quinn giggled lightly and he turned to glare at the offending object.

Shoes. Rachel's shoes.

Looking around he spotted luggage sitting nearby. Aside from these two things, the place was spotless, pristine. It looked unlived in.

He walked down a short hallway, pausing at the first bedroom door he saw, pushing it open cautiously.

It was a child's bedroom, with toys and games and clothes strewn everywhere.

He closed the door quickly.

He continued on to the next room and when he opened the door, he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her. She was lying in the middle of a large bed in the dark room. Her eyes were closed and he could see the slight rise and fall of her chest. She was sleeping.

He hesitated at the door, suddenly unsure. Would she want them there? He didn't know.

Quinn nudged him out of the way, pushing past him as she removed her shoes, set her purse on the dresser. He watched as she pulled back the covers and slid in beside Rachel.

The smaller woman never even moved.

"Well?" Quinn said softly. "Are you coming?"

He didn't even hesitate as he rounded the bed, sliding in behind Rachel, sandwiching her between the two of them.

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Rachel awoke to the intense feeling that she wasn't alone. The room was dark and quiet but she felt the distinct sensation of someone's presence.

It was two someones, as it turned out.

She saw Quinn's blonde hair first, fanned out across her pillow, face relaxed in sleep. She felt a hand on her hip and turned slightly, not surprised to see Noah's dark hair behind her.

She wondered how they'd gotten here, wondered how long they've been here. She decided it didn't matter and settled back into her pillows, eyes drifting shut again.

When she woke up the next time the sun was up, threatening to shine through her windows despite her tightly closed blinds and curtains. And Quinn was awake.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she teased.

Rachel blinked at her. "Quinn."

"Rachel."

"How long have you been here?"

Quinn's forehead creased in concern. "How long have you been sleeping?"

Rachel shrugged a shoulder carelessly. "I don't know. I'm tired."

Quinn frowned but said nothing. She reached out and stroked Rachel's hair softly and Rachel closed her eyes again.

"It's too quiet," she said finally, her voice little more than a whisper. "It's never been this quiet before."

Quinn's soft strokes didn't falter as she murmured a soft, "I know."

"I'm just tired. So tired."

She felt Noah's hand leave her hip and he started rubbing slow circles on her back. "When was the last time you ate?" he asked quietly.

She thought back. "I don't remember."

She anticipated his lecture, his reminder to take care of herself, but it didn't come. Perhaps he knew she was past the point of caring.

Neither said anything and she relaxed into their touch, soothed into a deep sleep again.

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"She's sleeping again," Quinn murmured quietly after awhile. He'd figured as much. She'd stopped talking and he'd felt her body relax.

"This isn't good for her."

"I know."

"She's depressed."

"I know."

"Well, do you know what we should do about it?" he asked sarcastically.

Quinn propped herself up on an elbow, looking at him over a slumbering Rachel. "How about we go see if we can find something to eat? I'm hungry and she needs to eat."

He followed her reluctantly out of the bedroom, casting one last glance at the sleeping brunette before closing the door softly behind him.

The fridge was pretty bare, and what was edible was well past the expiration date. They looked through pantries and drawers until Puck finally found one with a collection of takeout menus. They decided on Chinese and Quinn called to place the order.

He wandered around the apartment, not in danger of tripping over anything else in the daylight. There were pictures everywhere, he noticed, pictures of Christopher with Rachel, Will and Emma and his grandfathers. There was a coloring page on the wall of a superhero with the message _to mommy love christopher_ scrawled in red crayon across the bottom.

The whole apartment made his chest burn.

"They were happy here," Quinn said softly from behind him.

He didn't say anything, just stood tensely, staring at a picture of Rachel and Christopher beside a sign for the Central Park Zoo.

"It's not fair."

"No. It's not," he said roughly.

"She can't keep doing this."

He threw his hands in the air, turning to look at her. "Well, what exactly are we supposed to do about it?"

"Why are you asking me? It was your grand plan to come here! What were you going to do?"

His shoulders slumped a little, defeated. "I have no idea," he admitted. "Mostly I just wanted to see for myself that she was ok. Which, clearly, she is not."

"We'll figure it out," Quinn said softly, touching his arm.

"Yeah." He wasn't convinced. He flopped down on the couch, absently flipping on the TV and surfing through the stations. Quinn sat down next to him and they watched TV in silence until the doorbell rang.

He paid for their food as Quinn went to wake Rachel up. He was unpacking cardboard containers, setting them out on the table when she came back.

"She says she's not hungry."

Puck narrowed his eyes. "She needs to eat."

"I know. But she says she's not hungry."

"I don't give a fuck what she says."

"Puck!"

"I'm serious, Q. She needs to take better care of herself. She can sleep all she wants, as long as she eats too." He marched back into the bedroom and shook Rachel's shoulder. "Wake up," he told her.

She groaned a little. "Noah, I'm not hungry. I'll eat later." She changed positions on the bed and buried her head under a pillow.

He contemplated her for a moment before deciding on his course of action. "Actually," he told her, flipping back the covers, "you'll eat now." He picked her up bridal style and carried her into the kitchen, ignoring her yells of protest.

Quinn was seated at the table and greeted them with a raised eyebrow as he dropped Rachel unceremoniously into a chair. "Well, that's one way to do it," she said archly.

"She's out of bed, isn't she?"

Rachel glared at him. "I'm tired. I;m not hungry right now. You couldn't have just let me sleep?"

"Nope," Puck said insolently, letting the p sound pop.

"I hate you."

"Hate away, but grab a plate."

He watched as she picked a few small pieces of vegetables, a small helping of fried rice. She glanced over at him and he raised an eyebrow. She sighed and added a little more rice.

They ate in silence and he was glad to see Rachel was actually eating a little bit, though not as much as he'd have liked to see. He figured that was a battle for another meal.

Quinn cleaned up the empty containers and put the leftovers in the fridge. He and Rachel sat contemplating each other. Finally, he raised his hand and pointed down the hall. "Shower," he said simply.

She looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"Shower. You. Go. Now."

"But-"

"Nope," he cut her off. "Seriously, babe, just go take a shower. Before I take you in there myself."

She stood up and headed down the hallway and he could hear her swearing at him under her breath the whole way. He waited until the door closed and he heard the shower turn on before he looked at Quinn.

"That's what we're going to do," he told her smugly.

Quinn shook her head, an amused look on her face and headed back into the living room.

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Rachel was in the bathroom for a long time and he was just starting to worry about her when he heard the door open down the hall. He kept his eyes on the TV and only turned to look at her when she spoke to him.

"Am I showered enough for your standards?" she said sarcastically. He let his eyes trail down her form, from her pink cheeks and wet hair to the fluffy bathrobe and fuzzy slippers she wore on her feet.

"Good enough for now," he told her. "Wanna come watch TV with us?" He gestured to Quinn who had stayed silent during the exchange.

Rachel shook her head. "I'm still kind of tired," she admitted quietly. "I'm going to go back to bed."

"Sweet dreams, Berry," he said.

Quinn bid her goodnight as well and waited until the bedroom door closed before she turned to him. "You're letting her go back to bed?" she questioned.

"Why not?"

"Because you said she was depressed," Quinn said slowly, looking at him like he was crazy.

"She is," he shrugged. "But we're not going to cure that overnight. Small steps, Q."

"So getting her to eat…"

"And getting her out of bed," he finished. "And the shower, even. She's going through a lot, and I understand that, but it's not going to get any easier if she's constantly sleeping or wallowing in self pity."

Quinn grimaced. "Do me a favor? Don't say that to her."


	19. Chapter 19

AN: Very graphic adult chapter ahead…you have been warned…

Chapter 19

Several days passed and Puck continued the same routine. He or Quinn would get Rachel up for breakfast and urge her to shower. She would go back to bed, only to be woken again for lunch. Another nap, and then woken for dinner. She didn't complain or fight it after the first day and she seemed resigned to the routine.

Quinn had taken to crawling into bed with Rachel at night but he had stayed on the couch. He couldn't even really pinpoint the reason, but a part of him thought maybe he would be intruding if he invited himself into her bed. So it was the couch for him.

One night he and Quinn were watching movies in the living room. They had gotten pizza for dinner and Rachel had actually left her room on her own when she heard the delivery guy knock on the door. It was slow but he felt she was making progress.

A soft snore drew his attention and he chuckled when he saw Quinn fast asleep, stretchec out beside him. He turned the volume down a few notches on the television and turned his attention back to the movie.

He wasn't sure how much time passed but another noise drew his attention away from the television. He turned and saw Rachel standing in the doorway of her bedroom, her expression unreadable.

"Hey, babe," he said softly. "Movie's pretty good, you should come watch."

She walked around the back of the couch and he swallowed hard at her idea of pajamas: boxer shorts and a t-shirt. It wasn't like it was lingerie but the shorts were short, showing off her long legs, and the t-shirt was tight, molded to her like a second skin.

She sat beside him, silently, her thigh brushing against his and he had to tell himself to chill out. Her eyes settled on the screen and he forced his to do the same. It wasn't long, however, until he felt her fingers, feather light, trailing down his arm. He moved his eyes back to her to find her staring at him.

"Rach," he said softly.

"Noah." She angled her head to the side, regarding him quietly.

"What are you doing?"

"You don't like it?"

"That's not what I said," he stuttered.

She scooted closer and pressed her mouth close to his ear. "Make me forget," she whispered before taking his earlobe in her mouth.

He jumped at the contact and when she swiped her tongue against his ear he stifled a groan. "This isn't a good idea, babe."

She pulled back and looked him in the eye. "You don't want me?"

"That's not it and you know it."

She stared long and hard into his eyes before climbing carefully into his lap, thighs straddling his. "Noah," she whispered. "_Please._ Make me forget."

He rested his forehead against hers and tried to control his breathing. His hands found her thighs and god, she was hot. It took all of his resolve to say to her, "I don't think we should do this."

"All I feel is pain, Noah. All the time. Tonight I want to feel something else. I know you can do that for me."

His hand found her cheek as her eyes shimmered in the darkened room. He thought long and hard before he murmured a rough "Ok" and claimed her mouth with his own.

It was so much better than he remembered it. She had been hesitant in high school but she wasn't now. He sought to be gentle as she molded herself to him, hands running over his biceps, clutching him closer.

He ran his hands over her thighs, pulling her down against him, tangling a hand in her thick hair. His lips moved over hers and when he slipped his tongue past them, she moaned, arching her back, pressing her chest into his.

Quinn stirred beside them and he was reminded where they were. "Bedroom," Rachel said raggedly, and he took a small bit of pride in her swollen lips. He slid his hands under her thighs and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around him and her lips moved to his neck as he carried her the short distance back into her bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him and pressed her back against it, reaching a hand down to turn the lock.

"Don't want any surprises," he told her with a grin. He ran his hand back up her leg, resting it on her ass. "So hot," he murmured against her cheek.

She turned her head, claiming his mouth again and this time her tongue moved first. His hands slid through her hair, his body pressing against hers the only thing keeping her against the door. One hand left her hair and he let it trail down her neck, replacing it with his mouth when she shuddered. Her head lolled back, resting against the door to give him better access. He found that spot just under her ear, the one she'd loved him to find in high school, that one short week they were together. He still remembered it, still remembered every spot on her body and how she'd sounded when he found it.

His hands were on her hips now, gentle, caressing, as his lips found the hollow of her collarbone. He could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly against him and he was sure he'd never had it this good before.

She was writhing against him now and he wondered how long it had been for her, since she had been touched like this. Hell, if she wanted to forget…he'd make her forget every last thing except for him, what he was doing to her.

He would give her that much, that much and so much more.

He slid his hands under her thighs again, bringing her against him and pulling away from the door. He set her on her feet and brushed his hands down her arms. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. Noah, god, yes."

That was all he needed to hear. His hand went to the back of her neck, pulling her in for another searing kiss. The gentleness was gone now and he poured all his passion, everything he was feeling for her, into that kiss.

Her arms were around his neck and she was kissing back, pressing herself as close to him as she could get. She made a little noise as his tongue swept the inside of her mouth and it went straight to his groin.

His hands settled on her hips and he dipped them under her shirt. Her skin was warm, hot, and she moaned when he touched her. She ran her hands down his back, tugging his t-shirt free from the waistband of his jeans. She pushed it up, murmuring impatiently when it bunched around his chest. He let out a low chuckle and pulled back long enough to tug it off before his hands were on her again.

"You're wearing too many clothes," he murmured against her ear, tongue flicking out to lick her earlobe. She gasped and he loved the shudder that ran through her. He grasped the hem of her t-shirt and took a step back, looking at her as he lifted it. She raised her arms straight up and he tossed the shirt to the side. "Better," he whispered into her hair. He ran his hands across her stomach, still flat after all these years. She trembled under his touch and clutched his shoulders tight. He bent his head, kissing her again as he backed her toward the bed. He lifted her again, settling her down against the pillows as he leaned over her.

His mouth moved to her collar bone again and her eyes drifted closed as he placed soft kisses down her throat, his hands molding her breasts, thumbs brushing lightly across her nipples. She moaned low in the back of her throat when she felt the wetness of his mouth through her bra. She opened her eyes to see him bent over her, lavishing her breasts with attention. The heat felt wonderful, even as his hand was slipping under the fabric covering her other breast and she arched up when his skin brushed hers, her nipple already taut against his finger.

He removed his mouth and she let out a groan of protest. His fingers brushed nimbly against the clasp of her bra and within seconds she was bare to him and his mouth was on her again. "Beautiful," he murmured against her skin. "Fucking gorgeous."

She whimpered as he took a nipple in his mouth, tongue caressing it as his fingers worked her other one. She cried out, not caring how she sounded, how desperate she seemed. God, it felt so good. He removed his mouth too soon, but before she could protest he kissed his way across the valley between her breasts and claimed her other nipple, biting gently, tugging with his teeth. She arched up, wanting more of his mouth and he obliged, sucking her into his mouth. She was on fire, all over, and her body seemed to be acting on its own accord. He slipped a jean-clad thigh between hers and she pressed herself against him shamelessly, hips finding a rhythm that matched the rhythm of his tongue against her. He flattened his tongue and she gasped, hips moving faster. She was close, so close, and he trailed his hand down her abdomen, lower, until his fingers were wet with her. He swirled his thumb around her once, twice, and it was too much, his mouth and his leg and his finger. She fell apart, clinging to him desperately as she let go.

He rode it out with her as her body slowed, then stopped moving altogether. He kissed his way lightly up her neck, nuzzling her hair as she regained control. "Good?" he whispered, a smile on his face.

Her hand found the back of his head and dragged his mouth to hers. The passion was there but she was content now, kissing him slowly, lazily before she pulled back. "So good," she said. "Thank you."

He grinned wickedly at her. "Baby, we haven't even gotten started yet."

A slow smile stretched her face and he could see the fire in her eyes. She trailed her hands down his stomach, fingers brushing the waistband of his jeans and he inhaled sharply. She chuckled and deftly undid the button on his jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly, the sound seemingly loud in the quiet room. She slid her small hand inside and cupped him through his boxers and he hissed through his teeth.

"Fuck, baby," he panted.

"Not yet," she whispered in his ear as she found the opening in the shorts, her skin hot against his. He closed his eyes against her shoulder as she worked him with her hand and he knew he wouldn't be able to last long like this. And there was still so much more he wanted to do to her before they were done.

He pressed a kiss to her neck, sucking lightly, marking her just under the ear. She'd be able to see it and he would know it was there but she could hide it with her hair. That was hot.

He gave one last kiss before pulling away from her and rolling her to her back. He moved his hands to her waist, pushing down her poor excuse for shorts. She lifted her hips, letting him slide them off her. He pressed an openmouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh, taking a moment to see her spread out before him, red flush spreading from her cheeks to her chest, body heaving with desire. He pressed another kiss, higher on her thigh and she sighed, a sort of dreamy sigh and he grinned. He was doing that to her.

He lowered himself to his elbows and let her leg fall over his shoulder. He glanced up and her eyes were dark with want. He grinned, his trademark grin, before lowering his mouth to her.

She thought she was going to die when she saw his head dip down but he didn't give her what she wanted. Instead, he pressed the very tip of his tongue to her, just the briefest of touches. She whimpered and arched her hips, wanting to feel his mouth, hot and wet against her. But when he breathed, a long exhale against her skin, a shock rushed through her, right down to her toes. God. He knew what he was doing.

He traced her folds slowly with his tongue, everywhere but where she wanted him most. He nipped lightly at her skin, soothing it with his tongue before dipping inside her, making her arch off the bed. She felt his nose press against her there, _right there_, and she cried out, grinding her hips into him. He nuzzled her there as his tongue continued to work, in and out. She felt a tightening inside her and knew she was so close.

She felt his breath on her again as he shifted and suddenly he was there, right were she wanted him. He took the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucked gently. She let out a sharp cry and he used his hands to still her hips, keeping her steady for him. He sucked again and again and she was _so close_. And then he stopped. She let out a frustrated noise, so close, wanting her release. He grinned and flicked his tongue out and she started at the different sensation. He spread her wider as his tongue flicked repeatedly and she went higher than she thought possible. She writhed against him, hips working faster when he pushed two fingers deep inside her, pulling them out, slamming them in, following the rhythm of his tongue. She let out a sob as he curled them and moved them faster, tongue lapping at her. She felt her muscles tighten, toes curl and then she was gone, coming harder than she's ever come in her life. She heard herself yell something but she was so far gone she had no idea what she said.

He kept his mouth on her as she came down until it became too much and she pushed his head away. He crawled up her body, grin on his face. When she regained control on her body and everything stopped feeling like jello, she pulled him down and kissed him, tasting herself hot on his tongue. He rolled overtop of her and she reached between them, brushing her finger over the head of his cock, smiling when his hips arched into her hand.

She wanted to taste him, so much, but he shook his head when she started to move. "Later," he mumbled and she could see the fire in his eyes. He gripped her thighs again, spreading her open and she felt him, hard and ready, at her entrance. He slipped his hands under her, pulling her up, closer to him as he slid in.

He groaned at the contact. She was tight, so tight and she was making these little purring noises in the back of her throat and he knew this wasn't going to last nearly as long as he wanted it to. He started moving and he used his hands to tilt her hips, giving him a better angle, a deeper place to fill. Judging from her moans and her nails scraping lightly across his back, he figured she liked it too.

She writhed against him, hands clutching for purchase on his back. He was deep, hitting her so deep and as he picked up the pace, thrusting faster now, she felt her orgasm rising again. He shifted, sitting a little more vertically and when he thrust again she screamed at the angle change. He was hitting her in all the right places and she shifted her hips when he slammed into her again, anxious to have all of him inside her.

His chest was heaving and a fine sheen of sweat made his skin glisten. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look better and she knew that this was how it was supposed to be, finally understood what every girl who'd ever been with him saw now. He was a god, a prodigy and her body had never felt so good.

He was whispering in her ear now, panting, bent over her as his body moved. "So beautiful," he panted. "So good. Wanted this for so long. God, baby."

She trembled at the emotion in his words, her thighs moving to clench around his waist. He was moving faster now, breathing harder and she knew he was close. His hand found its way between them and he brushed his thumb against her clit and she arched up into him as he thrust again. "Noah," she keened. He kept his hands there, thumb moving in the circular motion she loved so much. Her nails raked his back and he pressed harder. "Noah! Noah Noah Noah," she chanted, her body tightening. She raised a leg higher, taking him deeper, spreading herself more for him. She felt the fire in her stomach, the curl in her toes as he stroked her again and again, fingers and cock moving in tandem. When he nuzzled her hair and bit her earlobe gently, she couldn't stand it anymore. One more quick swipe of the thumb, sharp snap of the hips and she was falling again, screaming his name, clenching around him. She heard him call her name, hips still snapping and then he collapsed on top of her, their chests heaving together in the darkness.

When he rolled off of her she assumed he was leaving. She had no idea why, because nothing he had done indicated that this was a hit and run situation for him, but she was still surprised when he pulled the covers back and slipped beneath them before grabbing her hand and pulling her under as well.

Her breathing hadn't quite returned to normal and she rested her head against his chest, tracing light patterns against his skin with her fingertips. "That was good," she said quietly. "I get why you were all about sex in high school now."

He chuckled. "Fuck good, it was amazing, Rach." He pressed a kiss to her hairline and when she tilted her head to look at him, she was stunned by the emotion in his eyes. He hadn't been kidding. He had thought about this. She wasn't sure what to say, what to make of this new revelation and she was quiet as he stroked his hand over the smooth skin on her back.

"I can go back to the living room if you want," he said quietly.

She glanced at him sharply and he actually looked nervous. Nervous for her response. She offered him a small smile. "Stay," she said simply, snuggling into him even more. "Stay."

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AN: So definitely the first time I've ever written something so explicit. Hope it wasn't terrible! - Rachel


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Rachel was still sleeping when Puck woke up the next morning and he smiled as he watched her. She looked peaceful in sleep, slight smile on her lips. He ran a hand over her head, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. She sighed and turned her head to him and he was afraid he'd woken her up, but she stayed asleep. He didn't want to leave her, but he knew Quinn would be up soon and he and Rachel hadn't discussed what they were doing yet. He didn't know what this was to her, whether she'd want people knowing. And as much as it killed him to think about it, he knew that was a distinct possibility. She had said she wanted to forget and he was pretty confident he'd made that happen for her. Anything else would be an added bonus and he knew they needed to have a conversation about it later.

He sighed quietly, pressing a light kiss to her cheek as he stood and put his clothes back on. He tiptoed into the living room, relieved that Quinn was still sleeping. He grabbed a set of clothes from his suitcase and headed for the shower.

By the time he'd finished his shower both Rachel and Quinn were up, sipping coffee at the table, Quinn reading the paper. He caught Rachel's eye and winked at her, grinning when she blushed and ducked her head.

Quinn looked up, glancing between the two. "What's going on with you two?"

Rachel looked up at him, panicked, and he was quick to answer. "Nothing," he said defensively. "There more coffee?"

His back was to them when Quinn said, "Last night was definitely not nothing" and heard Rachel choke on her coffee. He was by her side quickly, pounding lightly on her back as she coughed and sputtered.

"What?" she gasped when she was finally able to speak.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Please. You're loud, Rachel. _Very_ loud. And Puck, don't smirk, you weren't so quiet yourself."

Rachel groaned, dropping her head into her hands as Puck laughed. "I'm so mortified."

Quinn shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't be. Sex is normal."

"Uh, excuse me," Puck interjected, drawing their attention. "Sex with Puck is not normal. Sex with Puck is an earth shattering experience." He grinned, seeing Quinn's narrowed eyes, Rachel's returning blush. "Right, Rach?" She swatted at him and he ducked away, retrieving his coffee and sitting between them at the table.

Quinn resumed her observation of the two. "So, what does this mean?" she asked them. "Are you together now? Was it a one time thing? What?"

Rachel looked uncomfortable. "Q," Puck said warningly.

The blonde tried to look innocent. "What? I'm just saying, you guys need to figure these things out."

"We didn't exactly talk about it last night," he pointed out, glancing at Rachel from the corner of his eye.

"And you don't think you need to?"

"Q, seriously, just…just stop," he said wearily.

"I just think-"

"I don't know what this is," Rachel admitted quietly, and they both turned to stare at her. "Things are just so difficult right now, and I'm not really sure where my life is going. I'm sorry, Noah. I guess…last night wasn't really fair to you."

He shrugged. "Don't see me complaining, do you?"

She smiled at him and he reached across the table to take her hand. "Look," he told her, "we're both adults here. We'll figure it out. No pressure."

She nodded briefly. "No pressure."

Quinn watched the exchange and as the silence settled over them, she spoke again. "So, Rachel, have you thought about what you're going to do? Are you thinking of going back to Broadway?"

Rachel blinked and Puck narrowed his eyes. "Quinn, what the fuck? We just said no pressure."

Rachel laughed lightly. "I haven't thought about it," she admitted. "Honestly, until you two showed up, I hadn't really thought about anything."

"You crawled in bed and stayed there," Quinn said knowingly.

Rachel nodded. "It seemed like the thing to do. If I was sleeping I wasn't feeling, you know?" She sighed, her fingers tracing an idle pattern on the tabletop. "Guess I can't do that forever."

"We can stay however long you need us," Puck told her seriously, and Quinn echoed the sentiment.

Rachel smiled at them again and he could tell it was sincere. "Thanks. I appreciate it, I really do, but I think I'm doing better now. I just have to deal with this and figure out my life now. That's not something anyone can do for me."

Quinn smiled sadly. "Is that our cue to leave?"

Rachel scoffed. "Of course not. You guys have done so much for me, now and…before. I'd never kick you out. Besides," she said with a smile, "you haven't done any sightseeing yet."

Puck grinned at the two girls. "Well, what do you know?" he said. "There may be some more for us to do here after all."

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Two days later, after Rachel had carted them around the city from attraction to attraction, she stood at the airport, watching as they checked their luggage. They had seen everything they'd wanted to in New York, short of her onstage, and it was time for them to go home. She loved them and she would miss them, but she knew it was time.

She had to stand on her own sometime.

As if sensing her thoughts, Noah came to stand in front of her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. She looked up into his clear hazel eyes and was again amazed at the depth of the emotion she saw there. He didn't want to leave, she knew that, the regret was evident on his face and a part of her felt bad about what had happened between them. She would have definitely rethought her decision if she had known there were actual deep feelings on his part.

She supposed she was lying to herself if she said there weren't feelings on her side too.

They had managed to get through the last two days with very minimal awkwardness. The funny part is that when there were awkward moments, it was usually because of Quinn. The blonde had confessed she was overjoyed at what had happened between her two good friends and she was looking forward to what would happen between them in the future. Rachel herself wasn't so sure. She had no idea which direction her life was going in now. She had no idea what she was going to do. Go back to work? Probably have to. Broadway? Could she even cut it anymore? Did she even want it? And she wasn't delusional, she knew the next few days, without Quinn and Noah, would be difficult. She knew the only reason she was in the place she was right now was because they had refused to let her curl up and hide from her feelings. She hadn't been alone since they'd forced her from her bed and she didn't know how she was going to handle being in that lonely apartment by herself again.

"I'm just a phone call away." The murmured words against her ear sent shivers down her spine and she was reminded of their coupling a few nights ago. Things had gone back to normal between them, they hadn't resumed their sexual relationship, but being so close to him right now, she kind of wished they had, at least once more.

"I'll be fine," she said as his arms came around her. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She knew what they looked like to the uninformed individual: lovers saying their goodbyes in an airport, despite the fact that Quinn was hovering nearby. She supposed that was actually true, in a way. They were lovers now, and they were saying goodbye.

She just didn't know what it all meant.

He pulled away, brushing a hand gently over her hair before cupping her face and leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He went to pull back and she grasped his biceps, pulling him back in and deepening the kiss. They kissed until they both needed to breathe and he rested his forehead against hers.

"Call me," he told her gently. "And take care of yourself."

She couldn't explain why her eyes filled with tears at his tenderness. She closed her eyes as he brushed them away with his thumbs. "Ok," she whispered, not able to speak more over the lump in her throat.

He placed one last, lingering kiss to her temple, before stepping back, his hands clasping hers. There was so much written on his face, so many emotions displayed there but he simply gave her a smile, squeezed her hands gently before backing away, eyes on her face. He gave her one last look before turning and heading to the boarding gate with Quinn.

She watched them go until she could no longer see them, brushing away her own tears now. An empty feeling settled over her and she tried to squash it down. Sighing, she headed for the entrance. It was time to go home and face her new life.

33333

It had been a week since his return from New York and Puck was exhausted. He'd missed so much work that he'd spent every free second he had trying to get caught up and back in his boss's good graces. Jim hadn't been thrilled with all the time off he had taken, nor with his impromptu, extended trip to New York, but once Puck had explained the situation, Jim had softened.

"Ah," he said wisely. "A girl. That's all you had to say, buddy. It was about a girl." Puck had shot him the finger before going back to his project.

He'd been surprised when Rachel had called two days after their return, though he didn't quite know why. He told himself he thought it would be longer before he'd heard from her but part of him had been afraid she wouldn't call at all. The calls were regular now, one or the other calling whenever they had a free moment, or during their weekly scheduled call on Tuesday. She wasn't great, he knew, and had sounded depressed the first time he'd spoken to her after he was back in Lima, but she was doing better than she had before their visit.

She told him just last night that she had contacted her agent and advised her to start looking for Broadway auditions again. She'd sounded uncertain, though, and when he asked she confessed that she wasn't sure if it was the right move for her now, but she wouldn't know unless she tried.

He was happy for her, he really was. She was amazingly talented and she belonged on a stage and if that's what she wanted…well, then he was happy for her. He just…he missed her. A lot. And not just the sex, though that had been hot as hell. He missed _her_. All of her. He missed talking to her and seeing her eyes light up and her smile.

Fuck, he was whipped.

He liked his life, he really did. He had his own place, friends who were good enough to let him mooch home cooked meals from them, a good job. He was living the typical bachelor life and he couldn't be happier about it.

Except sometimes, now, his life felt a little bit empty, a little lonely. He came home to an empty apartment and he sometimes felt like a third wheel with Finn and Quinn. His job, that was good, and he was moving up someday but…over the last few days he'd started to realize that maybe he was looking for someone to share it all with. Someone to come home to, someone to share his day, and his life, with.

He told himself he just needed _someone._ He ignored the fact that his brain screamed Rachel's name when he thought about someone to come home to. She was in a different place than he was, trying to figure her life out and he wasn't about to bombard her with his sudden need to settle down.

Even if it's the only thing he wants anymore.

33333

It took Rachel exactly 37 seconds into her first Broadway audition in years to realize that it wasn't what she wanted anymore. It was strange to be up there in front of the producers and director, singing her heart out and not being completely immersed in it. It had been her dream for as long as she could remember, since she could walk, if you believed her dads. It was strange to be so detached from it now, so complacent about it. She had achieved her dream, had done so many years ago with half a dozen starring roles on the stage. And then Christopher had come along and changed everything. Apparently that change was permanent.

She graciously thanked the producers for their time before sending a text to her agent, telling her she'd changed her mind and if an offer came to politely decline it. She wondered, as she strolled idly down the city streets, what on earth she should do now and why she wasn't more panicked that she didn't have an answer to that question.

She passed a large Starbucks and was debating a chi tea latte when something bumped into her leg. She looked down and smiled at the little boy standing before her. He was young, two at the oldest, and he looked up at her, confused.

She knelt down in front of him. "Are you lost?" He just looked at her before his lower lip came out and started to tremble. "It's ok," she soothed. "It's ok, we'll find your mommy."

"Tommy!" A sharp piercing yell broke through Rachel's thoughts and the little boy perked up. Rachel raised her eyes to the frantic woman rushing toward them. "Tommy, oh Tommy! You can't wander away like that, you scared Mommy to death," the woman said, clutching the little boy close to her. She turned her attention back to Rachel. "Thank you so much. I just turned my head for a second."

Rachel smiled understandingly, despite the ache in her chest. "Sometimes that's all it takes," she said softly.

The woman nodded. "He's quick, I'll say that. Thank you again. Let's go home, Tommy, I think we've run enough errands for today, don't you?"

Rachel watched, heart heavy, as they walked away, hand in hand, Tommy chattering brightly to his mother. She'd had that once, a bright, beautiful little chatterbox. But he was gone now and she was trying _so hard_ to move on and be ok again. She wondered if she would ever be if she had to witness scenes like that for the rest of her life.

33333

Two months later Rachel found herself back in Lima once more, this time sitting beside Noah's mother and sister in a crowded audience. He had been so excited when he found out he could graduate earlier than he thought, his heavy course load in the evenings and on weekends and during the summers having paid off. He had called her immediately, more excited than she'd ever heard him before.

"_I did it," he said, sounding amazed at the revelation._

_Rachel rolled her eyes but couldn't quite keep the smile off her face. "Noah, of course you did it," she said. "You said you were going to and you did."_

"_I don't know that I ever actually thought I would finish it," he said, the awe still evident in his voice. "I've never really done anything in my life, not like this, not something I can be proud of. Fuck, not something my mom could be proud of. It's just…surreal."_

"_I'm so proud of you, Noah," she told him, smile stretched wide across her face._

"_A Broadway darling, proud of little ol' me?" he drawled playfully. "It must be my lucky day."_

"_You're not proud?"_

"_No, I am," he said seriously. "I just…I'm twenty-six, you know? You guys have all accomplished so much more a lot younger than I am now."_

"_You've always had an unconventional way of going about things, Noah," Rachel told him. "It may have taken you a little longer than the rest of us, but you found something you wanted and you went after it. You should be proud. The rest of us certainly are."_

_She could hear him grinning even through the phone. "Mom's gonna flip her lid," he said. "And for the first time, I think it will be in a good way. She didn't think this would happen until next year, at least, if ever."_

"_She'll be very proud."_

"_She always wanted to sit through a college graduation ceremony," he said quietly. "I know community business school isn't quite the same thing, but maybe it'll be close enough."_

"_When is the ceremony?"_

"_First weekend in May. Just a few more weeks."_

"_Are there…is this an event where one would need a ticket to get in?" she inquired._

"_Yeah, they hand them out when we let them know how many we need."_

"_Think maybe you could send me one?" she asked timidly. There was silence on the other end of the line and she thought maybe she had overstepped. "I mean, I know your mom and sister are going, and perhaps they don't give out many tickets to students, as the average family size is currently shrinking, probably due to the current state of the economy, and never mind, just forget I-"_

"_Berry," he cut her off. "Breathe. Seriously, it's not normal to be able to talk that much at once." She inhaled and he waited until she was quiet before he spoke again. "You want to come to my graduation?"_

_She hesitated. "I-yes."_

_He was quiet and she thought again that maybe she had done something wrong, slipped up somehow but when he spoke all he said was, "Ok. I'll send you a ticket."_

Which was how she found herself back in Lima. It was good to be back, she thought. She loved New York, she did, but sometimes fighting through the crowd was an annoyance, sometimes the sheer volume of people was overwhelming. The quiet of her hometown was a nice break from the hustle and bustle.

The ceremony was short but resembled the typical college graduation ceremony. They had a speaker, though Rachel thought he was a little boring, if not completely dull. Her attention was riveted on the stage, however, when Noah's row of classmates rose from their seats and made their way to the stage as names were called. She watched him in his cap and gown, grinning proudly as he strolled casually across the stage to receive his diploma. She cheered loudly with his family and he grinned at her. She grinned back, feeling her insides melt a little bit.

He met up with them after the ceremony and he told her they were going to dinner to celebrate and she was going with them. His mom had coughed then, stuttering about how Sarah wasn't feeling well and she was going to take her home and put her to bed. Sarah looked perfectly fine and she and Noah rolled their eyes together at their mother's attempt at matchmaking.

"Ma," Noah said in a warning tone.

The woman kept babbling about how Sarah just needed to rest but that she was _so proud_ of him and _so glad_ Rachel had been able to come back to town for the ceremony and Noah looked so annoyed that Rachel couldn't help but giggle.

His mother rushed his sister off and he laughed, shaking his head. "Well, I guess it's just us for dinner," he said.

She reached down, linking their fingers together as they walked to his truck and she couldn't help but think how nice it felt. "That's ok," she said. "I'd hate for your sixteen year old sister to miss her nap."

They chattered over small things- the weather, their friends, work- on the drive to the restaurant and it wasn't until they were seated that Noah changed the subject.

"So," he started, leaning slightly across the table, "what did you think of the ceremony?"

"Well," she said, taking a sip of her water. "Honestly?" He nodded. "It was the typical graduation ceremony. Your speaker was atrociously boring."

He laughed loudly, covering his mouth with his hand. "You noticed that, huh?"

"He had no passion about which he spoke, he was dull and monotone through the entire speech. It was a mess."

He grinned at her across the table and she was struck again with just how handsome he was. "He wasn't our scheduled speaker," he explained. "We had a really good one lined up, supposedly, but she was pregnant and she went into labor a few hours before the ceremony."

Rachel shared his amusement but as his words sunk in, she froze mid-laugh. He noticed. "Rach?"

She waved him off, thoughts flying a mile a minute as she tried to do the math in her head. Shit, how long had it been since she'd had her period?

"Rach." His voice was soft and she saw genuine concern etched into his face. "You're freaking me out here. What's going on?"

She raised her eyes to his. "Did we use protection that night?" she asked softly. She saw understanding flash across his features before his eyes widened and she knew his answer before he spoke it.

"I…no. I didn't use…there was no…you're not on the…?"

She shook her head. "I was, of course. I was very good about it. But then everything happened and I was sleeping all the time and that was really the very last thing I worried about doing every day. I just kind of stopped taking them."

He sat back in his chair and took a breath. "Ok. Are you late?"

She shrugged helplessly. "Probably. I'm trying but I can't remember the last period I had. I've just been so stressed with everything and trying to find a job and make up my mind that I didn't even realize…"

He took her hand in his and waited until she met his gaze. "It's ok," he said quietly. "Whatever happens, it's ok."

She shook her head, still in a daze. "I don't know how this happened. What…what do we do now?"

He squeezed her hand. "We finish dinner. And then we go buy a test and we'll go from there. It'll be ok, Rach, I promise."

She nodded absently and they continued with their meal. She had been enjoying her food but now she could barely taste it in her mouth. Pregnant. What in the world was she going to do? She had no job, no direction, nothing. How could she have been so irresponsible? And how could she not have realized sooner? She had known within days of her missed period when she was pregnant with Christopher.

Christopher.

Her heart clenched and the tears came before she could stop them. She could vaguely hear Noah talking to her, detected the panic in his voice as he tried to determine what was wrong. She couldn't answer him. She just kept crying.

She knew he called for the check and it seemed they were outside in his truck in an instant. He had shoved his seat all the way back and had her cradled in his lap, running his hands through her hair, down her back, making soft soothing noises in her ear. Her tears stopped eventually but she remained in his lap, cuddled close to his chest. He sighed in relief when her tears stopped and rested his chin against her head.

"Are you ok?" he asked softly.

She nodded slightly. "I'm sorry," she said hoarsely. "I kind of lost it there." She felt his chest rumble beneath her cheek as he chuckled. "I panicked. And then I thought of Christopher and…it was too much. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make a scene."

His lips ghosted over her temple. "It's ok," he said softly. "It's a big thing, on top of all the other big things you've dealt with lately. No worries, baby. I'm right here and we're going to figure this out. I promise."

She sighed, nuzzling further into his embrace. "We should probably go buy a test."

"In a minute," he said casually. "I haven't gotten to hold you in a while, and I'm kind of enjoying it." He punctuated his statement with a wink when she tilted her head to look at him and she rolled her eyes. She was still for another full minute before moving away from him and back to her own seat. He started the truck and put it into gear before reaching over and taking her hand in his again. He squeezed and she squeezed back and he pulled out into traffic. It was time to buy the test.


	21. Chapter 21

She'd taken three home tests when she'd been pregnant with Christopher, just to be sure, so she was fairly experienced in how they worked. Still, she sat calmly on the closed lid of the toilet in his upstairs bathroom, patiently reading the instructions as he paced back and forth in front of her.

"Can't you just pee on it?" he asked finally and blanched when she glared at him. "I mean, aren't they all basically the same?"

"Yes," she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice, "but I just want to be sure I take it correctly. It could alter the results if I just assume I know what I'm doing and then we could walk around not knowing for sure until we got a doctor's appointment and I-"

"Ok," he said, cutting her off, his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. "Ok. Finish reading."

"I'm done," she said, smiling sweetly at him when he rolled his eyes. "It takes three minutes after I complete the process. It will digitally say Positive or Negative after the three minutes are up."

He nodded, a mask of calm descending over his features. "Ok. I'm gonna be outside, give you some privacy, but come out when you're done. We'll wait together."

He left her alone and her hands shook slightly as she took the test, setting it carefully on the sink when she was done. She washed her hands slowly, glancing at the test out of the corner of her eye. When she could put it off no longer, she opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He was staring at the timer on his cell phone, but opened his arms when he saw her and she didn't hesitate, going to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. They stayed like that until his cell phone beeped, signaling their three minutes were up.

Her heart pounded as he took her hand and led her gently back into the bathroom. He picked up the test and she couldn't see it from where she was standing. He was still for several moments and the anticipation finally got to be too much for her. She stepped closer to him and he wordlessly held out the stick for her to see. Pregnant.

She closed her eyes with a sigh. She had suspected as much but seeing it, confirmed there in neat digitized print…it was a lot. She felt Noah's hands on her shoulders, let him guide her back into his bedroom and push her down gently on the bed.

He knelt in front of her, taking her hand in his again. "It's ok," he said quietly. "I know you're upset right now, but it's going to be ok."

She shook her head slightly. "I'm not upset, Noah," she said. "I don't know what I'm feeling about this, to be quite honest. It's a surprise, obviously, and I haven't really had enough time to process it enough to really be upset."

He was nodding but she wasn't sure if he actually got it. His hand was tight in hers, his eyes hopeful, and she knew he was thinking about_ before_, of another girl and another positive test. "What are we going to do?" he asked wearily and she knew he was trying to figure things out before he let himself be happy, excited about this.

She sighed and pulled him up to sit on the bed beside her. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I just…Things have been difficult, you know? With Christopher and…everything. I've been seeing someone, did you know that?" she asked and was quick to explain herself when his eyes darkened marginally. "A therapist. Seeing a therapist. It's helped, a little, I suppose, but there's still so much up in the air, so many decisions to make. Do I want Broadway again? Do I keep singing? And now do I want another child, especially so soon?"

She saw the hope die in his eyes and she hated herself for doing that to him. But he just brushed his thumb gently across her knuckles, gaze on their joined hands. "Whatever you want, I will support you," he said seriously.

She smiled sadly at him. "Noah, this is your baby too. You have a say in this."

"I want a baby," he said. "I want a baby with you. I know it's unexpected, but I can't bring myself to think of it as a mistake. But I'm not the one whose life has been turned upside down and I'm not the one that lost someone so close to me. So whatever you feel you need to do, whatever decision you think is best to make, I will support you."

"So if I decide to go back to New York and get an abortion tomorrow, you'd still support me?" she asked to clarify. "You'd still call me, still treat me the same, still want…"

"I'd still want you," he said, his voice strong and clear. "I think a long time ago, I would have hated Quinn if she had done that, but things are different now. The situation is complicated and I care more about you than anything else right now. If you can't do this, I understand."

Her eyes filled with tears and she squeezed his hand. "I could never do that," she confessed. "Of course I have always been pro choice, and I remain firmly pro choice, but, since having Christopher…I just don't think that's a choice I could make, Noah."

He sighed in relief and seemed to deflate a little. "There are other options."

It was her turn to move her gaze to their joined hands. "I don't know what to say, Noah. I don't know how I feel about any of this right now. It's just happening so fast."

"I understand."

She blinked back tears as she raised her eyes to his again. "I just need some time," she said quietly. "I need some time to think and to make a decision."

"Ok."

They stared at each other, neither sure what to do or say now. Finally, he let go of her hand and pulled her to him. "Whatever you decide," he whispered in her ear. "Whatever you want."

She closed her eyes and leaned against him, wishing that she knew exactly what that was.

33333

She left Lima the next day on a plane headed back to New York. Noah had accompanied her to the airport with her fathers and, though he didn't say anything about their situation since they had agreed it was best to keep it quiet until a decision was made, she knew it was weighing heavily on his mind. He had been quiet, unusually so for him, and had been very tender toward her. He'd held her hand as they walked into the airport, put his hand in the small of her back in the crowded terminal. He'd kissed her tenderly goodbye before she boarded, despite the fact that her dads were standing there, and she knew she'd probably have to explain that one to them later.

She spent three days doing nothing but thinking, pacing back and forth across her apartment. She'd spoken with Judy about it during their last session and she was still no closer to making a decision than she was when she'd left Lima.

She sighed, halting her pacing, and decided to take a break from all the heavy thinking for a little while. She sorted through the mail, intent on paying some bills when she came across a thick envelope with a return address from Finn. She opened it quickly and was surprised to find a stack of pictures inside, along with a little note.

_Rach-_

_It's been a few months now and Quinn and I thought you might want these. We're so glad you're doing better. We're making plans to come visit next month. See you soon._

_Love,_

_Finn and Quinn_

She knew what she was going to see before she even glanced at the pictures and she tried to brace herself for it. Even still, her eyes welled up with tears when she saw her son smiling up at her from the first picture. It was of the two of them, him reclining in his bed and her perched beside him. He had an excited look on his face and she was smiling down at him. It made her heart hurt to look at it but seeing the joy on his face made her smile a little.

He had loved his birthday party and it was evident from the expression on his face in all of the pictures. Finn really had taken pictures of everything and she hadn't even noticed. There was a picture of him with Brittany the frog, Brittany the person visible in the corner of the shot, laughing. A picture of him hugging Artie and Tina. One of him and her covered up with his Sponge Bob blanket, another of him grinning down at his new pajamas. She stopped on a picture of Noah and simply stared at it. They were engaged in what looked like a very serious conversation and Christopher was holding the television remote. Noah was giving the child his full attention and the look of pure happiness on his face stirred something inside her. She quickly shuffled to the next picture of Christopher pinning a tail on a blindfolded Mike before she thought too much about it.

33333

He hadn't heard from Rachel in the week since she'd been back in New York and it was a little too reminiscent of the last time she'd left, when he and Quinn had found her depressed and alone. Her dads assured him that she was ok, they had spoken to her, but he wasn't sure. They didn't know about the baby, about all the choices and turmoil she was facing.

When he told her he understood if she didn't want a baby right now, he had been serious. He knew how hard it was to lose a child, and he knew it was so much worse for her than it had ever been for him in his own circumstance. She was struggling with the loss, the grief, the uncertainty that had become her life almost overnight, and he knew it would cripple even the strongest person. He imagined what it might be like for her, going through another pregnancy, preparing for another child so soon after losing her first and couldn't even fathom what she was possibly feeling right now. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt her. He was serious when he told her she was the only that mattered to him too.

Did he want to lose another child? Absolutely not. He was in a different place in his life now, with someone he could actually legitimately see himself with, and he felt he would be a good dad. But he was more worried about her, her feelings and well being and he wouldn't jeopardize her emotional health for anything. She was healing, and while he knew she would come out ok in then end, the last thing he wanted to do was give her another obstacle to deal with on the way.

It was a tangled web they were caught in and he had no idea how to help her out of it.

He was more than a little worried about her now that Finn had told him about the pictures. At first he was pissed at his best friend for sending them in the first place, especially without telling him, but Finn had sent them last week, which meant she should have them by now. And she wasn't answering his calls or texts. He was debating purchasing another plane ticket when there was a light knock on his front door.

To say he was shocked to see Rachel standing in front of him when he opened the door would be an understatement. He pulled her to him immediately, burying his face in her hair. He held her for a long time before pulling away to look at her. She actually looked ok, like she had been sleeping regularly and eating when she was supposed to.

She quirked her lips in a small smile. "Can I come in?"

He stepped aside, allowing her to pass and sat beside her once she was seated on his couch. His gaze traveled over her, eyes settling on her still-flat stomach. "How have you been?"

She smiled again and he was glad to see a sparkle in her eyes again. "I've been good," she said slowly. "Doing a lot of thinking, reassessing, you know."

He nodded, swallowing hard before he asked the question he didn't know if he wanted an answer to. "Have you made any decisions?"

She moved her gaze to her clasped hands before speaking again. "I've wanted Broadway ever since I was a little girl. It was my dream," she said softly. "I always wanted to be Elphaba, sing the iconic songs from _Rent_, end every night with the thunderous applause I knew I'd receive. And I got that, you know? I was the favorite for a new show they were opening when Christopher got sick, did you know that? I had to pull out and I hadn't gone back since. I always kind of wondered, somewhere in the back of my mind, if I had really missed out on that." She took a deep breath, smiling as she raised her eyes to his. "I don't miss it. I mean, yes, some things. But I achieved my dream years ago and I had a new dream when my son was born. I don't want Broadway anymore, Noah."

His chest was tight. "What does that mean?"

She shrugged. "I like New York, you know? It's a busy city, with tons of things to do, a lot of cultural attractions. But it's not the most ideal place to raise a child."

"Rach, what are you saying?" he asked hoarsely, afraid to hope, afraid to dream just yet.

"I'm moving back home," she said, looking him square in the eye. "And if you still want to do this, with me, with _us,_" she said, placing a hand on her stomach, "well, then, ok."

"We're doing this? We're really doing this?"

She smiled. "I think we are."

He let out a yell, grabbing her and pulling her close to him again, dipping his head to capture her lips with his. Pulling away, he rested his forehead against hers. "Are you sure?"

She bit her lip and his heart sank. "I can't promise this will be easy for me, Noah," she said seriously. "I may get a little crazy sometimes and I may get very emotional about this sometimes…"

He saw through what she was saying and brought his hand up to cup her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered to her. "Bad, good, whatever…I'm not leaving. You're stuck with me, Berry, you and the little one here. Get used to it."

Her eyes clouded with tears and she pressed her lips to his. "We're doing this," she said, sounding a little overwhelmed.

He pecked her lips again. "We should start looking for a bigger place. My apartment isn't kid-friendly."

She leaned against him and closed her eyes. "We have some time," she said. "We should probably decide when to tell everyone."

"And schedule an appointment with a doctor, just to be sure," he added.

She squeezed his fingers briefly. "I already did that," she admitted. "In New York. I just wanted a doctor's confirmation. We're definitely pregnant."

"We're having a baby," he said grinning.

Her smile was hesitant but genuine. "We're having a baby."


	22. Epilogue

Epilogue

To everyone watching her, Rachel looked like a chicken with her head cut off, running this way and that way, yelling out instructions to everyone she passed. Those who knew her were amused. Everyone else was just scared.

"Andy! We need the red for that number, not the blue!" she bellowed at a passing stage hand. "The red!"

Puck chuckled when the hand scurried away, fearful look on his face. "Babe," he said, tugging gently on her arm. "Take a breath. If the stage hands revolt, you're not going to have anyone to help out."

She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "Noah, what good is a stage hand if he can't even tell red from blue? Seriously. This performance is going to be a mess!"

He chuckled at her dramatics. "It's going to be awesome."

"How can you say that?" She glared at him. "There's so much to do and if I have to run around double checking that it all gets done and they have to do it again because they did it wrong to begin with, then we're never going to be ready."

He pulled her in for a brief kiss, slipping her a little tongue before letting her go. "Relax," he told her. "We have a few more hours before the it starts and everything's under control. Why don't you go see how Madi's doing with Emma?"

She sighed, leaning against him. "I'm being a dictator again, aren't I?" He nodded and she sighed again. "I don't mean to, not really. But this thing is very important to me, Noah."

"I know, babe," he said softly. "Everyone knows how much this means to you. It means a lot to all of us too, which is why everyone is going to bring their A game and everything's going to be perfect. You'll see. It'll just help if, you know, you stop yelling at people."

She laughed, sagging against him. "Fine. You're right. I'm going to go check in on Madi, I'll be back."

He grinned, brushing his lips lightly against hers again. "Take your time."

As she wove her way through the flurry of activity backstage, she kept her eyes open for the flash of red hair. She spotted Emma in the audience, sitting alone in the front row.

Well, almost alone.

Rachel grinned as her daughter squealed when she saw her. Madison Puckerman was six months old and the perfect combination of Rachel and Puck. She had Rachel's dark hair and Puck's hazel eyes. And Christopher's little nose, and Rachel had no idea how that happened. When Christopher had been born she and Jason had been baffled because the little boy's nose, though tiny and adorable, resembled neither of them and apparently her daughter had inherited that from her brother.

She took her squirming daughter from Emma, who said she had some things to do but would be back tonight for the performance. She hugged her daughter close to her and listened as she babbled and cooed. She felt so blessed to have her daughter in her life, her daughter and Noah. It had been a rough road, with more than a few bumps along the way, but they'd stuck it out and she was happier than she'd ever been.

She missed Christopher. Of course she did. She thought of him every day and sometimes it still hurt so much it felt like it happened yesterday. But Noah had been nothing but supportive, and her friends and family had all been there for her and slowly, thinking of her lost child made her smile instead of cry. Madison only enhanced that. She found herself talking about Christopher more and more now, comparing his milestones to Madison's. They were very different individuals and Rachel found it amusing to watch Madison develop very differently than Christopher had.

Madison had been a very high maintenance infant, always needing to be held, crying into all hours of the night. As easy of a baby as Christopher had been, Madison had been that difficult. The experience had been exhausting, to say the least, especially on top of the emotions of it all, and Rachel was glad Noah had been there for everything. He'd surprised her with a house during her sixth month and all of their friends had helped with the renovations and decorating. The best part was that it was in Chicago. Noah's boss had recommended him to a friend in the construction business in Chicago and he had been hired as a site manager instantly, his salary ample enough to provide for his family. Matt and Mike had again offered Rachel a position in their studio and this time she accepted, heading the new singing department they had added. She had gotten involved in the local theater programs and made some connections and that was the foundation for her big idea, her biggest project to date.

Thespians Against Leukemia had been her baby, her other child. She had started planning it when she was pregnant with Madison and had had to put it on hold after her daughter was born. She waited, patiently putting in whatever work for it she could, and when her daughter was a little older, she was able to dive back into it. She had contacted several rising Chicago theater stars, some of her old Broadway friends from New York and of course, the glee kids. Tickets were sold and all proceeds were going to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. They had rented a huge Chicago theater for the show, and last she had heard, they were almost sold out.

Holding Madison in her arms, and thinking about all the good the money could do, she was so happy she might cry.

As soon as she double checked Andy's costumes again.

33333

"Good evening. I'd like to welcome you all to the first ever Thespians Against Leukemia benefit. Thank you all so much for coming. Your support for this cause has been overwhelming and we're all so grateful for everything you've all done. Go ahead and give yourselves a hand," Rachel said enthusiastically, addressing the large audience in front of her.

"As many of you may know, I'm Rachel Berry and I'm going to be your host for the evening. My son, Christopher, died of leukemia last year. He wasn't even five years old." She paused to let the information sink in. "Every year, 137,260 people are affected with some form of leukemia. Some of those children will not survive. Some will have long painful battles with this disease. Some will be lucky enough to survive the fight, but will live with the aftereffects of their illness for the rest of their lives." She looked over the faces of the audience, all giving her their full attention. "Tonight we're going to try to change that. You've all already helped by buying your ticket to tonight's benefit. But please, don't stop there. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Association needs all the support it can get. There will be tables set up in the lobby if you choose to donate further. I urge you to please consider this. Also, there is a silent auction going on in the lobby all night so I encourage you to wander out there between numbers and place your bids. And to start off the show tonight, we're going to start off with one of Broadway's newest stars, fresh from her starring role in the smash hit of the season. Please give a warm welcome to Elena Harrison, singing Carrie Underwood's _So Small._"

As the lights went down and Elena took the stage, Rachel walked over and took her place in the wings. She watched Elena belt out the number and started as arms wound their way around her waist.

"You're doing awesome," Noah said in her ear.

She relaxed into his arms. "We really are sold out."

"I know. And it's all because of you. You've done a great job with all of this, babe."

"I had some help," she said, turning in his arms to grin at him. Looking him up and down she smiled. "I see Andy found the correct outfits."

"Everything's all set and ready to go. Relax. It's going smoothly."

She smiled at him again before heading back onstage as Elena finished her number. "Wasn't she wonderful?" she asked the audience, applauding the performer.

"Well, as any of you who have personal experience with leukemia or a similar disease, a support system is critical during those times, both for the patient and their family. I'd like to introduce some of my own support system this evening. My friends from high school, my glee club and our teacher, were pillars of strength and support during my son's illness and I don't know that they will ever fully comprehend what they did for me in that time. I'd like to bring a few of them out to sing for you now. Please welcome Quinn and Finn."

Her friends joined her onstage and she hugged them before taking her place in the wings with Noah again. A guitar started playing softly as the song began.

(Finn)

_Mother_

_Do not cry for me_

_All of this _

_Is exactly how _

_It's supposed to be_

(Quinn)

_I'm right here_

_Can you hear my voice?_

_My life, my love, my Lord_

_My baby boy_

(Finn)

_As they nail me to this tree_

_Just know the Father waits for me_

(Quinn)

_God how can this be your will?_

_To have your son and my son killed?_

(Finn)

_Whatever happens_

_Whatever you see_

_Whatever your eyes tell you has become of me_

_This is not_

_Not the end_

_I am making all things new again_

(Quinn)

_I remember _

_When you were born_

_In that manger where I first held you _

_In my arms_

_So many miracles _

_And lives you've changed_

_And this world repays you how?_

_With all this pain_

(Finn)

_As they nail me to this tree_

_Just know the Father waits for me_

(Quinn)

_God how can this be your will?_

_To have your son and my son killed?_

(Both)

_Whatever happens_

_(Whatever happens)_

_Whatever you see_

_(I don't wanna see)_

_Whatever your eyes tell you has become of me_

_This is not_

_(Tell me it's not)_

_Not the end_

_I am making all things new again _

(Finn)

_Whatever happens_

_Whatever you see_

_Whatever your eyes tell you has become of me_

_This is not_

_Not the end_

_I am making all things new again_

Rachel hugged her friends as she went back onstage again. Looking out into the audience she saw several people dabbing their eyes. "This year, 54, 020 people will die of leukemia and lymphoma," she said softly. "It doesn't have to be that way. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society is funding research in new ways to fight, and someday, hopefully, cure this disease. Please keep that in mind as we take a break. Feel free to check out those auction items and donation tables in the lobby."

Rachel felt as if the evening flew by. It was a whir of hosting duties, chasing everyone around backstage to get them where they needed to be and performing. The girls, including the Broadway and theater girls, put together a performance of Josh Groban's _You Raise Me Up,_ and the guys did an acoustic performance of Simple Plan's _Save You_, which Rachel had to admit, went surprisingly well. One of the local stars from Chicago theater sang an acapella version of Phil Collins' _You'll Be In My Heart_, and all of the theater and Broadway performers gathered for a performance of Sheryl Crowe's _I Shall Believe._ Will and Puck had broken out their guitars for a performance of _Somewhere Over The Rainbow_ and had received a standing ovation from the audience. The night was almost over and Rachel couldn't believe how successful it had been so far. She stood behind the curtain as she waited for the music to start, smiling at those around her. The music cued and the curtain raised, revealing the group to the audience.

(Finn)

_Goodbye to you my trusted friend _

_We've known each other since we were nine or ten _

_Together we've climbed hills and trees _

_Learned of love and ABC's _

_Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees _

(Mercedes)

_Goodbye my friend it's hard to die _

_When all the birds are singing in the sky _

_Now that spring is in the air _

_Pretty girls are everywhere _

_Think of me and I'll be there _

(All)

_We had joy we had fun we had seasons in the sun _

_But the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time _

(Quinn)

_Goodbye Papa please pray for me _

_I was the black sheep of the family _

_You tried to teach me right from wrong _

_Too much wine and too much song _

_Wonder how I got along _

(Kurt)

_Goodbye papa it's hard to die _

_When all the birds are singing in the sky _

_Now that the spring is in the air _

_Little children everywhere _

_When you see them I'll be there_

(All)

_We had joy we had fun we had seasons in the sun _

_But the wine and the song like the seasons have all gone _

_We had joy we had fun we had seasons in the sun _

_But the wine and the song like the seasons have all gone _

(Rachel)

_Goodbye Michelle my little one _

_You gave me love and helped me find the sun _

_And every time that I was down _

_You would always come around _

_And get my feet back on the ground _

(Puck)

_Goodbye Michelle it's hard to die _

_When all the birds are singing in the sky _

_Now that the spring is in the air_

_With the flowers everywhere _

_I wish that we could both be there _

(All)

_We had joy we had fun we had seasons in the sun _

_But the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time _

_We had joy we had fun we had seasons in the sun _

_But the wine and the song like the seasons have all gone _

_We had joy we had fun we had seasons in the sun _

_But the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time _

_We had joy we had fun we had seasons in the sun _

_But the wine and the song like the seasons have all gone_

They took their bows and Rachel encouraged the crowd to place one more bid in the auction before the evening ended. She hurried backstage to change her outfit. Fifteen minutes later, she stood in a simple black dress, behind the curtain as she listened to Quinn talking to the crowd.

"We want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight and supporting such a wonderful cause," Quinn said. "You have all been so generous and made tonight a complete success. We're still tallying up all the donations, but at last count our total raised tonight for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society was $26, 475. So thank you!" She paused and the crowd cheered. "We have one more special performance for you tonight and I'd like you to give her your full attention, because without her, none of us would be here tonight. She's put in so much hard work to help out this cause that's so dear to her heart. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Rachel back to the stage."

Rachel stepped through the open curtain and took her place in the center of the stage as the lights dimmed and soft music started. She kept her head down until she started singing, her voice clear and pure.

_Dragon tales and the water is wide_

_Pirates sail and lost boys fly_

_Fish bite moonbeams every night_

_And I love you_

_Godspeed, little man_

_Sweet dreams, little man_

_Oh my love will fly to you each night on angel's wings_

_Godspeed_

_Sweet dreams_

_The rocket racer's all tuckered out_

_Superman's in pajamas on the couch_

_Goodnight moon, will find the mouse_

_And I love you_

_Godspeed, little man_

_Sweet dreams, little man_

_Oh my love will fly to you each night on angel's wings_

_Godspeed_

_Sweet dreams_

_God bless mommy and match box cars_

_God bless dad and thanks for the stars_

_God hears "Amen," wherever we are_

_And I love you_

_Godspeed, little man_

_Sweet dreams, little man_

_Oh my love will fly to you each night on angel's wings_

_Godspeed_

_Godspeed_

_Godspeed_

_Sweet dreams_

She held the note out and applause rained down on her as the crowd stood and clapped. She bowed briefly before gesturing all the other performers onto the stage with her. She took the microphone and spoke overtop of the noise.

"Thank you all for coming tonight and for your sincere generosity. I look forward to the day where we no longer have to watch our children battle this disease and you have all helped us take a step in that direction. Thank you!"

Noah grabbed her around the waist as they were exiting the stage, swinging her around and she threw her head back, laughing. "You did it, babe," he grinned. "You were awesome."

"We were all awesome," she said. "I can't believe we were able to do this. Over $25,000, that's amazing!"

"All because of you," he said, placing a swift kiss against her lips. "Because of you."

"And Christopher," she said softly.

"And Christopher," he agreed. "He'd be so proud of his mommy."

She smiled and he was struck in that moment with how beautiful she really was. "There's just one problem."

"What's that?" he asked.

"This took up so much of my time and now it's over, whatever am I going to do with myself now? I need a new project."

He grinned down at her. "I think I can take of that for you, Rach."

She looked at him innocently. "What? How?"

He grinned and stepped back, dropping down to one knee as he reached a hand into his coat pocket, pulling it out to produce a ring. "Marry me?" he asked simply.

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him for a fraction of a second before screaming "Yes!" and launching herself at him. He caught her against his chest and slipped the ring on her finger as she beamed at him. He kissed her again, dipping her low, ignoring the wolf whistles of their friends. "What do you say, Rach?" he murmured when he let her up for air. "A wedding a big enough project for you?"

The End

AN: Thank you all SO MUCH for your kind words and encouragement during this fic. This, out of all my stories, was my baby. The idea has been there all along, even as I was writing my other stories. I would like to give a special thanks to **Lil0** for the suggestion of a concert with the glee kids. I was struggling with a way to end the story, a way to bring it all full circle and close it out, and I thought that was the perfect way to do it.

The songs in this chapter (and there were many!) were _All Things New Again_ by Brad Paisley and Sara Evans, _Seasons in the Sun_ the Westlife version, and _Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)_ by the Dixie Chicks.


End file.
